Moon Howling
by Gaea Blackwell
Summary: How did Remus Lupin become a werewolf? What was his first night in the Shrieking Shack like? And Sirius and Peter as *cousins*??
1. The Aftermath

Moon Howling

Chapter One – The Aftermath

Gaea Blackwell

"Remus! Hurry up before your breakfast goes cold!"

Ten-year-old Remus Lupin stuffed his arm through the sleeve of his jacket in a valiant attempt to dress himself in under ten seconds, making a mad dash towards the staircase and charging down the stairs into the kitchen. A warm muffin and a glass of milk were set upon the table, awaiting him. He plopped down to the table, snatched the muffin, and began scarfing it down.

Rowena turned from the sink, just as Remus was finishing off the last bite. "Honestly, Remus," she wondered aloud, "I didn't know you could _inhale_ food…"

"Mmargahum," Remus replied, swallowing the muffin and taking a swig of the milk.

Rowena sighed, stealing a glance at the calendar on the wall. "28 days again…" she murmured quietly.

"What's that, Mum?" Remus asked, a filmy white mustache lingering on his upper lip.

"Nothing, dear," she answered quickly, turning on the faucet and rinsing off her own breakfast dishes. "You be sure to get all of the schoolwork that you missed, all right?"

Remus rolled his eyes, looking heavenward as though he was the only sane person left upon the face of the earth. "Yes, Mum. We've been through this every month for however many years now, haven't we?"

"I know…but I'm always afraid you'll forget…"

"Oh, _honestly,_ Mum!" Remus groaned, draining his glass of any remaining milk, and bounding up from the table. "'Forget…' Please! How could I?"

Rowena shrugged innocently, progressing to drying the dishes. "I worry about you, Remus. You know that."

"Of course. You're a typical mother. I expect it, Mum. But I am capable of some things by myself, you know."

"I know. Just don't grow up too quickly, hm?" Rowena turned to him, then, leaning against the kitchen counter as she smiled lovingly. "We all grow up too fast, anyway. Why not try to hold onto it for a bit?"

Remus rose a single eyebrow, snatching his books, and gathering them in his arms. "You must have completely forgotten _your_ childhood."

Grinning lopsidedly, Rowena moved away from the counter, crossing to her son, and rumpled his hair. "No, no. I'm still living it, dear. Don't you forget that." She grasped his shoulders and turned him completely around, facing him towards their front door. She smacked him with her dishtowel as he moved towards the door. "And don't you miss that bus, because I'm not getting out the car to take you to school!" she called after him.

"Yes, Mum," Remus groaned back, grasping the doorknob, and swinging open the door. He suddenly leapt back as a flurry of feathers streaked past his face. "What the - ?"

Rowena turned back to him at the noise, and gasped, clasping a hand over her heart. 

Remus shut the door, tilting his head to the side as he watched the large bird circling overhead, unsure of where to land. "What is it? An _owl?_" 

Rowena suddenly ran towards the owl, slapping her dishtowel at it. "Go on! Get out!" she barked at it.

The owl squawked in answer, flying closer to the ceiling, swerving away from the threatening towel. 

"MUM! Stop it! You're going to hurt him!"

Rowena didn't listen. She went back to the kitchen, opting for a better weapon. She came back only a second later, brandishing a frying pan. Remus stared at her, aghast.

"_MUM!_"

The owl had clearly gotten the point, and landed on the stair rail, gripping the banister tightly to keep from slipping down. Remus stared at the great bird in disbelief, glancing at his frenetic mother every so often, trying to make sure that she wasn't about to pull out a BB gun. A sudden glint of parchment attached to the owl's leg caught Remus' eye, and he drew closer, out of curiosity. 

"What's that it's got on it's leg…? Is that a _letter?_" Remus questioned, arms reaching out to grasp the parchment.

He didn't move fast enough. Rowena's frying pan came whizzing by his arm, nearly smacking the owl off the banister. Remus withdrew his hand immediately, scowling. "Honestly, Mother! What are you on about?"

Rowena snatched the letter from the owl, and shooed the owl out of the house. It obliged, hooting back indignantly at its unjust treatment. Remus stared after it, still unable to believe what had just happened.

Rowena stuffed the letter into her pocket, and returned, calmly, to the kitchen, frying pan still in her grasp. "You better go, Remus dear. The bus'll leave without you," she called over her shoulder.

Remus hung his mouth open with questions, but sighed to himself. Ten years of experience had taught him that having Rowena Lupin as a mother tended to starve a child's curiosity. Shoulders sagging with submission, Remus Lupin opened the front door once again, and disappeared out into the front yard, clicking the door shut behind him.

The letter was on his mind all throughout the school day. It wasn't as though he needed to pay attention, anyway. He had read through all of his school books during the summer, even going so far as to compose his own essays. His mother had never allowed him to go anywhere during the summer, and he lacked in friends as a result. Boredom could do crazy things to the mind, he discovered early on. He might even go so far as to say that he _enjoyed_ school work.

At least it took his mind off the full moon.

He propped his chin up with a fist as he sat in history class, listening to the elderly teacher drone on and on about the Vikings and Greenland, mulling over the events of the morning. First of all, he had been sure that his mother had been muttering something about 28 days left…which meant that his transformations had as much effect on her as they did him. He sighed quietly, glancing down at his blank notes. She hadn't deserved a werewolf for a son. She had to live in constant fear of him turning on her. She was also the only person that knew his secret.

__

I could never keep a secret like that, Remus thought to himself. Though he already did, of course. But it wasn't as hard for him; he didn't have anyone else to tell. But Rowena had everyone from the milkman to Remus' teachers to whisper it to, and she never did. In fact, she helped him make up half of the lies about his frequent absences.

But she kept quite a few other secrets, he remembered. There was the question of his father, for one. Remus had never known his father. Rowena had always told him that he had died in a car crash, just after Remus was born. But then she had let slip the fact that the Lupins hadn't owned a car until Remus was four or five. It just didn't make sense.

Then there was the owl that morning, of course. He hadn't the slightest idea what any of that meant, and he was itching to read the letter it had delivered. He had thought, in the quick second he had before Rowena had tucked the envelope away, that he saw his name glittering on the address. If it were true, he figured he must have some right to the contents of that envelope.

But then again, he could just be wrong about everything.

"Mr. Lupin! What North American country did the Vikings discover?" the history teacher barked, snapping Remus out of his dream-state and back to the brightly-lit classroom.

Yawning, Remus answered, "Newfoundland."


	2. Prologue: Rumours

Moon Howling

Prologue – Rumours

Gaea Blackwell

Nestled deep within Godric's Hollow, the Lupin household was one that rarely saw the sight of strangers. Edward and Rowena Lupin lived quietly, and rarely drew attention to their quaint two-story. The villagers ignored them, leaving them to their own devices. Edward and Rowena preferred this treatment – they had little in common with the Muggle villagers. But when the rumor swept through the tiny town that they had had a son, it seemed as though the doorbell would never stop ringing. It possibly wouldn't have, had Rowena not cast a charm upon it.

But the Lupins did not let this change of community heart bother them. They kept baby Remus hidden from public view, hoping that the town's fervor would soon die down. Gossip was a rare thing in Godric's Hollow, and it seemed as though nothing was more exciting than a bouncing baby boy. But as the news spread of Mrs. Rose's mysterious death, the attentions of the town were taken away from Remus and placed upon the investigation of the possible murder. It seemed as though no one could figure out _why_ Mrs. Elaine Rose had died in the middle of the night, and the gossiping ladies at church found this far more interesting than the dark-haired boy that never cried.

Even the Lupins thought the strange death to require more immediate attention than their own son. Surely Voldemort had been involved in Mrs. Roses' death. After all, she had been a retired secretary for the Ministry of Magic – also a noticeable Auror supporter. But what puzzled the Lupins the most was why Voldemort found it appropriate to kill her so suddenly. Mrs. Rose would certainly have come to the Lupins if she knew she were in trouble. Edward Lupin was an Auror, himself. 

Their answer came in the morning post one Sunday.

"Edward? There's a letter here for you. What's this mark – _Is that the Death Mark?!_" Rowena exclaimed, clutching the parchment in her fist.

Edward leaped to his feet, snatching it from his wife. He drew in a breath as he glanced at the emblem. "It is, Rowena. You don't think…?"

"No, of course not. What could he want with you, after all these years?"

Edward shook his head, and slit apart the sealing wax. He took the parchment letter out of its envelope, and unfolded it carefully.

_Mr. and Mrs. Lupin:_

I do hope that Elaine Rose's death served as an appropriate warning. She was very valuable to me, you know. Pity to have to send her on her way so soon. I'm sure you will have noticed by this time that your young son, Remus, is no longer present in your household. I suggest you follow my directions in order to see him again.

"Remus!" Rowena gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. She immediately took off for the nursery, her face rapidly turning white. As she came back into the kitchen, she wore an expression of horror. "Oh, Edward! He's taken Remus!"

Furious, Edward gripped Voldemort's letter, and continued reading.

_Never fear, I have no intentions of harming the child – as long as you follow these simple _

guidelines. First of all, you must denounce your service to the Ministry. Any associations you might

have with them must be severed immediately.

A silent curse escaped Edward's lips, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the letter even more tightly.

__

Secondly, you are to swear your service to the Dark Arts. The Death Eaters impatiently await your servitude. And last, but not least, I do expect full access to your Gringott's account. Do not attempt to offer me your façade of wretched pauper-earnings. The Lupins have quite a large amount of Galleons in their account and I desire only to have them convenient to me.

Signed,

Lord Voldemort

Rowena was in tears. Sinking into a kitchen chair, she buried her face among her hands, silently wiping her eyes on her white apron. Edward furiously stuffed the letter back into the envelope, and ripped it in two. No sooner had he let the pieces fall to the floor than they had stitched themselves back together and flown back into his grasp. Scowling, he tossed the letter into the kitchen fire, but to no avail.

"Oh, Edward, what will we do? We can't let him harm Remus!" Rowena cried out.

"But we also can't abandon the Ministry now. And we most _certainly_****cannot join the Death Eaters. Do you know what that means? Life in Azkaban! Regardless of what we do. I simply cannot use the Dark Arts, Rowena. You-Know-Who knows this. What he expects to get from us, I've no clue." 

"Money, Edward! He wants our money!"

"That's Remus's money now! We can't touch it any longer. Neither can he, until his eighteenth birthday. We can't give Voldemort anything. We have nothing to give." Edward sank down into the opposite kitchen chair, supporting his chin with a propped arm.

"Remus…oh, Remus, Edward. What about Remus?"

Edward met Rowena's gaze tentatively, a plan already forming behind his chocolate-brown eyes. "Oh, we'll figure out something…"


	3. Beginnings

Moon Howling

Chapter Two – Beginnings

Gaea Blackwell

There was definitely something odd going on.

Remus got home that day to find owls flying in and out of their chimney like it was Grand Central Station. All of them coming in had letters attached to their ankles – much like the one from this morning, he recognized – and those that were flying out looked slightly ruffled, as though they had been through a whirlwind.

He rushed through the front door, only to find his hypothesis correct. Those poor owls _had_ been through a whirlwind.

Rowena sat calmly at the kitchen table, stringing beans, while a miniature tornado whirled its way around the fireplace, sucking in all the owls and spitting them back out within a matter of seconds. It managed to shred every letter the owls delivered in the process.

Remus remained quiet, setting his books on the steps by the front door. He peeked around the corner to watch his mother, wondering why on earth she was so placid, with a natural phenomenon occurring in their fireplace. "Mum?" he finally asked, quietly.

Rowena's head snapped up. The string of beans fell to her lap as she waved a hand towards the fireplace. The tornado vanished and a whole flock of owls raced down the chimney and through the kitchen at their sudden clear path.

Remus' eyes were now wider than saucers. Not only had his mother just played God, but there was now an aviary in his kitchen. There was definitely something odd going on.

But before he had the chance to speak, to voice the thousands of questions waiting to be freed from his mind, he saw the ground rushing up at him, blackness licking at the corners of his eyes. And then he thought no more.

"I knew it, Vince! I just knew I should have told him before it was too late! Now he'll know how much I've been hiding…I can't tell him, I just can't. How am I supposed to _explain_ it all? 'Your father was killed by a Dark wizard, Remus.' Oh, I can see his face now. Next thing I know, he'll have me locked up in a funny farm!"

"Rowena, calm down. Remus is an understanding person. He won't ask too many questions, I wouldn't think. In fact, I think he'd rather like the idea."

"You've been around your nephew for too long, Vince. Not all boys are obsessed with the dramatic and unusual forms of life."

"Point taken. But I don't think it'll be as bad as you think it will."

"Oh, yes it will. On top of his being a werewolf? Just the mention of _that_ little tidbit makes him go pale in the face, and he's dealt with that for ten years! Imagine when I tell him the full truth. It'll kill him – literally!"

Remus watched his mother and an older man talking animatedly at the foot of his bed through the corner of one opened eye. How he had gotten into his bed, he had no idea. But this conversation was rather interesting, and he was in no hurry to disrupt it by letting his visitors know he was awake. 

Besides, he was dying to know the "truth," himself.

"Well, first of all, what even makes you think they'll _let_ him into Hogwarts? Did you read the letter? Maybe it's a rejection letter, saying that because of his…state…they can't accept him, and he'll have to be home-schooled. Then you don't have a thing to worry about."

Hogwarts? Sounded like a farm to him. _Don't tell me…my dad was a farmer and got killed in a tractor accident. 'Dark wizard' must be Mum's codename for it._ He snorted to himself. A farmer. How ridiculous.

"No, Vince. He saw me do a spell! I can't keep that from him…nor the reason for all the owls. I think he already knows what's going on."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, he's listening to us, for one thing," Rowena snapped, stalking over to the head of the bed, glaring down at Remus. "Open up," she commanded.

Remus squinted his eyes tightly shut, hoping for some vague reason that they might believe he was still quite conked out.

"You heard me," she said.

Sighing, he opened both eyes. His mother was staring down at him, an expression crossed between anger and extreme worry etched onto her face, and a strange man was still standing at the foot of the bed, gazing at Remus as well. He wore long dark hair and slight stubble along his chin, his eyes dark and sunken in. Remus glanced between the two of them for a moment, then turned to his mother. "What's this secret, Mum?" he asked quietly.

Rowena sighed, and glanced at "Vince." He nodded at the silent communication and left without saying a word to Remus. The boy scowled after him.

"I don't like that man," he told his mother, whom only smoothed down the covers of his bed, one hand shaking ever-so-slightly.

"Remus…there's something I need to tell you…and it's going to sound very strange…but you need to hear me out, see, and it'll all make sense. Really…well, maybe not quite, but it's the truth anyway, even if you don't believe it – oh, for heaven's sake! You're a wizard!"

He blinked.

Rowena took a deep breath, and plunged herself into the simplest explanation she could think of: "You're a wizard and you can do magic and see and hear things that Muggles can't and – oh, Muggles are non-wizards, Remus – and you were kidnapped by a Dark wizard when you were a baby, and that led to your being a werewolf, though I won't go into that, and your father was killed by the Dark wizard, but I won't go into that, either. Oh, Remus, I'm sorry I made us leave the wizard world, but I couldn't stand the thought of You-Know-Who using -…"

"No, I don't know who," Remus suddenly interrupted.

"Oh, you wouldn't. Well, we call him You-Know-Who. No questions asked, you see. But You-Know-Who, well, he thought he could use you, Remus, and I couldn't let that happen, so I thought if you were never trained as a wizard then you wouldn't be of any use -…"

"So keeping me under-educated and ignorant is the feasible solution in this situation?"

Mrs. Lupin finally took a breath, furrowing her brows in confusion at Remus' interjection. "Well, I suppose…Why?"

"No reason," he answered.

She sighed, and stared down at the floor. "I suppose you're mad at me, now."

"Not really."

She braved a glance up at him. "You're okay with all this?" she asked him.

"Not really."

"Then you're upset?"

"Not really."

She rolled her eyes, and paced across the room. "Oh, for heaven's sake. You're getting to be like Vince's nephew, Remus!"

Remus rose an eyebrow. "Like _who?_"

Rowena waved a hand through the air, brushing his question aside. She gazed out of the window for a moment, a finger to her lips in thought. She began murmuring to herself. "Well, of course, Dumbledore knows you're a werewolf, but those letters _did_ say that you were accepted. Book list and everything. We'll need to go to Diagon Alley, of course. Buy you some robes, your books. Maybe even a broom, if those are allo – no, of course they're not. We'll save that for next year. Maybe a nice owl? No, I think you're rather frightened of them by now…"

Remus slowly sank down into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. As his mother kept talking, her single-person conversation became stranger and stranger, rambling on about beetles and buttons, questioning about powdered unicorn ("Unicorns! Those aren't real!") horns, and pondering the price of eagle-feather quills ("High quality, those are!").

At least there was no longer any doubt about it. There was definitely something strange going on here.

A/N: Remus Lupin belongs to JK Rowling. Rowena and Vince are my own, though they claim different. Oh yes, and thanks for the replies, guys. I know the font on the prologue and chapter one was too small, but that was because it was readable on Word, as I was writing it, and somehow shrunk when I uploaded it. I'm too lazy to change it right now, anyhow. I hope this size is a smidgen better, at least.

Oh, and do watch out before getting too addicted to this story or anything. I promise, I'm a fanatic for killer cliffhangers ;)

On a second (third?) note, this is the beginning of a _very_ long series (siries). There are going to be four – well, maybe only three – separate parts, with an epilogue branching over all of them at the end. Basically, the concept is to show the Marauder's childhoods, how they met and grew closer, and then the after-effects of Voldemort. The other thing is that they're all brought together by Voldemort, somehow and…well, that's for the epilogue ;) Not that I have all of this written, of course. Just what I have posted so far. Oy vay, I've got work ahead of me…


	4. A Waning Moon

Moon Howling

Chapter Three –A Waning Moon

Gaea Blackwell

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Rowena had finally left Remus alone in his room, telling him to get plenty of rest before they decided when to go to Diagon Alley. Remus had given her an expression of utter confusion. She had dismissed the expression, and left without explaining to him what or where Diagon Alley was. Disappointed, he decided to fight back any other questions. The curiosity stifler was again at work.

The only problem was that he had too many questions to ask.

For one, he had always known about werewolves. Well, known they were real. All Muggle children _knew_ about werewolves, but none other than Remus ever knew they _existed_. Rowena had been careful to make sure that he never let his "condition" slip out to the public. Did all of that have something to do with this whole wizard thing?

Secondly, what made his mother think he _wanted_ to go to Pigbumps, or whatever it was? Maybe he was perfectly happy being without magic in life. Maybe he wanted to grow up and be an accountant, rather than work for this "Ministry of Magic" that his mother had rambled on about. Though he seriously doubted it.

But perhaps what bothered him most was his mother's sudden change of heart. If she had kept this secret for so long, trying to keep him sheltered from this separate world of theirs, why had she suddenly decided to thrust him back into it? Why had she been so adamant to keep him away from Pigbumps, only to rush off to "Gringotts" ("What's a greengoats?") to get some "galleons?"

And what on _Earth_ was a Dark wizard?

Sighing, Remus pulled himself out of bed, crossing to the mirror atop his dresser. His light-brown hair was a disheveled mess. He brushed it back, remembering how his mother used to tell him that it was nearly black when he was a baby. She had said that he was a tiny replica of his father, as a toddler. Now, though, he looked nothing like him. He looked more and more like the werewolf self that he took on once a month.

His hair was continually growing messier and messier – no matter what he did to comb it back in the mornings, it found a way to stick up all over the place by the end of the day. And his nose was growing longer, more snout-like, if that was possible. But, he noted with disappointment, he was still as scrawny as could be. _Probably just from my last transformation, though_, he thought.

He always lost weight after the full moon. He simply lost his appetite during the day, and at night the only hunger he felt was one that could not be met. Going three days without food was not good for his health, he knew, but there was nothing that could be done about it. It wasn't as though he made up for it during the rest of the month, either. He always ate more just after the full moon, since he was starved by that point, but he normally didn't have much of an appetite at all. His stomach rumbled at that very moment, reminding him that he, in fact, had not eaten dinner yet. Sneering at his unkempt hair, he padded out of the bedroom, making his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

He stopped on the staircase, hearing the sound of voices below. He bent down to look through the railing of the banister.

"Well, I didn't know what else to do, Vince. I had to tell him about being a wizard, though I didn't like it. Next thing I know, I'm hearing myself say that he's going to go to Hogwarts. Honestly, it's the last thing I want, but I guess it's for the better. He has to learn to defend himself against You-Know-Who, doesn't he?"

His mother was home. With a scowl, he noticed that the man from earlier was back, as well.

"Rowena, if you're going to tell him one thing, you may as well tell him everything. You didn't tell him about his father, did you?"

Rowena sat at the kitchen table, gazing down at the floor as Vince leaned against the kitchen counter. She sighed, bringing her gaze level with his. "I can't do that. Not yet. Once he's learned enough to understand -…"

"What makes you think he ever will?"

Rowena looked away from the taller man, her eyes beginning to water. "Not now, Vince. He'll blame himself if I tell him now. There was nothing else that could have been done, and he won't understand it, yet."

Remus shifted his weight from one leg to the other, biting his lip in thought. This situation just kept getting worse. He had never seen his mother so near tears.

"Well, you have three months before the term starts, Rowena. But I think he should know everything before he leaves for school."

Remus rose an eyebrow. Was Vince actually _supporting_ him now? An adult that actually _wanted_ a child to know the full truth?

"Maybe," Rowena answered.

Remus knew that tone of voice. It was almost a "yes," yet not definite enough to become a promise. She could easily wheedle her way out of it, if need be. He had heard that same thing several times in his life.

"I'd better get home, Rowena. Sirius may have blown up the house, by now," Vince said, without the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Rowena snorted with laughter. "That boy hasn't been the end of you, yet. I'm surprised."

"Frankly, so am I." Vince pushed himself away from the counter, straightening up, and offered a hand down to Rowena, helping her up from her chair.

Then, to Remus' astonishment, they kissed. His jaw went slack as his eyes bugged out in surprise. _His_ mother? _That_ man? What on _Earth_ was going on here?

"We'll see you later, Vince. Oh, and take these to Sirius. I'm sure he'll enjoy them." Rowena picked up a small bag from the table, a logo imprinted on the side: "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."

Vince took the bag, and smiled at her. "Thanks. Later, then."

But before Remus could so much as blink, Vince vanished into thin air. Rowena went to the fireplace, humming to herself as she waved – what looked to Remus like a stick – at the logs, instantly sparking a fire. 

His appetite now gone, Remus trudged back up the stairs, and disappeared into his room.

School ended for Remus at the end of June, just after the full moon. He had to take his exams beforehand, explaining to all of his teachers that his great-aunt had died and that he would be attending the funeral during the scheduled exam time. He even had a note from his mother to prove it. They were slightly annoyed with the prospect of giving him special treatment, but caved in, nonetheless.

As soon as the moon had begun to wane, Rowena had lectured Remus on the use of Floo powder. Dazed, he watched her give demonstration after demonstration, but it was still not enough to convince him that the flames would not scorch his body. Irritated, his mother finally agreed to take the Underground to London and go through the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley, rather than use the Floo powder.

Remus remained skeptical until the brick wall opened before him at the entrance to the Alley. It was then that he decided that not all of his mother's stories were a complete crock. Peering through to the hidden world, he gaped at the people bustling by. Some wore robes of all colors, others wore plain "Muggle" clothes. He glanced down at his own plaid shirt and jeans, and decided that he couldn't seem too out of place. 

Beaming, his mother strode right through the entrance without waiting for him. He tried to call out to her to wait; he needed a moment before stepping through the wall. But she kept walking, and he scowled after her. Glancing behind him at the Leaky Cauldron, he took a deep breath and tentatively put a foot through the entrance.

Nothing happened. It was a perfectly normal entrance – nevermind the fact that it had been a brick wall a moment ago. Grinning, he jumped right through and chased after his mother, who was heading straight for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Remus didn't protest.

They spent the day wandering around, gazing into all of the shops. Remus could barely hold back his disbelief. He stopped at one store, begging his mother to let him get a moving chess set, but she refused, reminding him of all the other things they had yet to buy. When they finally did get to the bookstore, Remus had snatched up every book he could find that sparked the vaguest interest in him. Rowena refused to buy a few, but he still managed to come out with a good twenty books in his arms. They decided that buying anything else would be too much to carry, and agreed to get the rest of the supplies on another day. 

"We do have until August, anyway," Rowena reminded her son, as they stepped back out from behind the brick wall. Remus had still refused to travel by Floo powder. "We can get your robes and cauldron next week, and then your potions things. We'll save the wand for last."

"How will I get all of this to Hogwarts?" Remus asked her.

"Oh, that's right. Well, we'll get you a trunk, as well. You can pick it out."

Remus grinned at her, his arms laden down with books as they headed home. He received quite a few odd looks, because of the winking cover on his Defense Against the Dark Arts book ("Dark Arts Are _Not_ Your Friend," by Gimcrack Locution), but even those couldn't erase the smile plastered on his face.

"Now, you remember to send me a letter by owl once a month, hear me?" Rowena said, straightening Remus' collar as he tried to pull away. 

"Yes, Mum," he replied, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Can I go, now?"

"Hold on." She reached into her purse, and pulled out a few golden coins. "These are for your snacks. There'll be a lady with a cart on the train. But don't buy too many Cauldron Cakes, hear me? Or Every Flavor Beans."

Remus nodded, pocketing the Galleons. He had been lectured to death the past two months on the goings-on of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – only to cause his mother paranoia by calling it "Pigbumps" again, yesterday.

She seemed to fear the idea of anyone thinking him to be odd in any way.

__

Of course, she has good reason, he reminded himself. _If anyone but Dumbledore finds out about me, I'm in serious trouble._

"All right, then…" Rowena sighed to herself, bringing Remus back to the present moment. "You have fun then. But not too much. And keep your grades up. Okay?"

Nodding again, Remus tugged on the handle of his trunk. He hugged his mother once more, then turned towards the scarlet train. He gazed up at it for a moment, almost as though he was sizing up an enemy. Tossing a glance back at his mother, he climbed inside it, heaving his trunk along after him.

A/N: Again, all characters but Rowena and Vince belong to JK Rowling. Yadda Yadda Yadda. I know the last part seemed a bit fast…mainly because I was trying to show how nervous Rowena was about the situation, but it may have come off wrong, dunno. Ah well. Hope this answered a few questions about the last part (like the whole werewolf/Muggle thing). That should get explained better in a later part, but I'm still in the process of finishing the plot – _then_ working on the details. This part moves kind of fast, too, but I think just because it's a transitional chapter and doesn't have much connection to the plot. I didn't feel like completely re-describing Harry's first visit to Diagon Alley, either, which is how it basically would have been ;) But don't worry. James and Sirius are coming up soon.


	5. Bad Apples and Vicious Owls

Moon Howling

Chapter 4 – Bad Apples and Vicious Owls

Gaea Blackwell

Remus ducked into the first empty compartment he could find, dragging his trunk along behind him, grunting at its massive weight. Upon turning to face the compartment, he noticed one slight problem.

The compartment wasn't empty.

A boy of his age sat on one of the seats, an inquisitive eyebrow risen beneath his mass of dark hair as he watched Remus struggling, his interest quite piqued with him. He said nothing.

Awkwardly, Remus started to back away, shoving the trunk out the door. "S-sorry," he sputtered. "Didn't realize this one was taken…"

The boy sat there. One corner of his mouth perked up in a lazy smirk. "You're Remus, aren't you?" he asked, finally, causing to Remus to turn back to him, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Y-yes, I am. How'd you know?"

The smirk grew wider. "Oh, I've only heard Remus-this and Remus-that all summer long. Don't tell me that my uncle hasn't complained about me once or twice to you. He swears I blow up the world while he's gone and then put memory charms on everyone, or something. Not that I wouldn't be capable of it, of course."

Remus tilted his head slightly, gazing at the boy intently. He noted a slight – very slight- resemblance to his mother's boyfriend (which she had finally openly admitted to Remus, last month). A conversation from a past day in June drifted back to him, replaying itself in his mind. 

"I'd better get home. Sirius has probably already blown up the house."

"Oh, take these to Sirius. He'll enjoy them."

He suddenly broke into a grin. "You're the one I'm supposed to be like, aren't I? You're that Serious fellow!"

The smirk vanished. "Me? I'm not serious at all. In fact, many say I'm the anti-serious."

Remus froze. "But you're…you're Sirius, right? Like the constellation."

"Oh! _That_ Sirius. Yes, that's me. The dog - though I was human the last time I checked."

"So was I," Remus muttered. Sirius leapt up from his seat, and grabbed a hold of Remus' trunk. Before Remus could protest, he had single-handedly heaved it up onto the luggage rack, next to his own. Remus gawked. It defied natural physics for such a scrawny boy to be able to lift something that heavy.

For Sirius _was_ quite scrawny; more so than Remus, dare he say. But he was quite tall, and his slender build gave him a towering look that would intimidate any possible bullies. The long, dark hair only added to the effect.

Left standing in the doorway to the compartment, Remus glanced down at himself. He was scrawny, yes, but he certainly wasn't tall for his age. Looking back at the other boy, he suddenly felt very small.

"Well? Are you going to sit down? The seats don't bite, promise. They learned their lesson."

Forcing out a laugh, Remus sank onto one of the seats, facing Sirius. "Did Vince bring you here?" he asked, quietly.

"Uncle Vince? 'Course not. He had to work…stupid git," Sirius answered, muttering off the last bit as he gazed out the window at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Remus bit his lip, looking in the other direction. That had obviously not been a good conversation topic to begin with. _Beautiful, Remus. You've managed to make and lose a friend in under twenty minutes. Wonder if they have that one in the Guinness Book…_

The awkward silence that followed was quickly shattered by a commotion coming from the end of the train. Intrigued, Remus got up and stuck his head out into the corridor, looking back and forth for the source. He finally saw what it was, just beside his compartment.

A boy with messy black hair and brown eyes lay sprawled on the floor, his trunk spilling open behind him and an owl cage before him, the gate flung open. Glancing upward, Remus could see a mousy-brown owl flying overhead, banging into the walls and trying to find a way out of the crowded corridor. Every time it thudded against the paneling it would bounce back – still flying – shake its head, and take off again, many times hitting the exact same spot again.

He nearly choked as he tried to hold back his gales of laughter.

"James? James Potter, is that you? Let me help you up," a beefy, older boy said, his voice laden with sarcasm. He came out of the compartment across from Remus's. Remus watched him step over the owl cage and grasp the sprawled-boy's arm.

To Remus's surprise, James snatched his arm away, and clambered to his feet, alone. "I can handle myself fine, thank you, Lucius," James replied, a cold glare settling onto his face.

The beefy boy, whom Remus assumed to be Lucius, scowled, and kicked the cage, denting the bars. "You're just as bad as the rest of the Potters, know that? All good-for-nothing, lousy wizards!"

James stood his ground, the scowl remaining adamant on his face. "Please get out of my way."

Sneering, Lucius remained where he was. "Make me."

Remus felt something against him, and looked down to see Sirius's head poking between Remus and the doorway, making a totem pole of their heads. He held a wand in one hand, aiming it right at Lucius's back. Grinning, Remus looked back at the scene unfolding before them, waiting for Sirius's coming intervention.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Lucius," James went on.

"Neither am I!" Sirius exclaimed. Then, with a casual flick of his wand and a quiet muttering, a burst of light exploded from his wand, and landed directly on the beefy, older boy. 

Next thing they knew, Lucius the Beefy Boy had carrots sprouting out of his head. 

"Not so beefy anymore, is he, Remus? Quite vegetarian, if I do say so myself," Sirius remarked, grinning mischievously. 

Remus and Sirius burst out laughing as James stooped down to shove his things back into his trunk, Lucius having long run off to his own friends, furiously yanking the carrots out. It took them a moment to calm down before they stepped out into the corridor to help James.

Remus bent down and grabbed James's books, placing them neatly in the trunk, while Sirius leapt up and down, trying in vain to catch the buzzing owl. He succeeded in getting his finger nipped at rather violently.

"Don't bother," James told Sirius. "He'll come down when he's knocked his noggin back in place."

Sirius ignored the comment, cursing as the owl smacked into the back of his head. "Stupid birds! Why can't we use something more intelligent to deliver the post?"

As if he had heard the comment, James's owl swerved downwards, ramming right into Sirius's rear-end, the sharp point of his beak aimed directly at him. Sirius howled in pain.

"Told you so," James said, grinning.

Remus shut the trunk with a slam, and stood back up. "Who was that boy?" he asked James.

James looked back at Remus, still laughing from Sirius's continued onslaught of swearing. "Oh, Lucius Malfoy. The whole family's rotten apples. I hear they work for Voldemort, but no one has any proof."

Remus blinked, ignoring the fact that Sirius was now hopping on one foot, the other having been pecked at viciously. "Voldemort? Who's that?"

James and Sirius simultaneously stopped, though Sirius still wore an expression of utter pain. "You don't know?" they asked at the same time.

"Well, my mother didn't tell me much, see…"

"It's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…You-Know-Who…the most evil dark wizard of all time!" Sirius choked out between cringes. The owl had now decided to ram into the back of his head at timed intervals.

"Oh! You-Know-Who! Yeah, I know who, now, I suppose. I just didn't know the name."

But the conversation quickly ended, as a girl with flaming red hair and large, green eyes stepped out into the corridor, hands on hips, lips pursed as she watched the owl attacking Sirius ("Ow! Geroff me, stupid git -!"). "JAMES POTTER!" she cried out.

James inwardly cringed. "Hi, Lily," he muttered.

"Would you _please_ put that owl back in a cage? Poor Annie's frightened to_ death_ of birds, and she's about gone hysterical!"

James rolled his eyes, and whistled for the owl. It abruptly left its beeline path for Sirius's ear, and headed straight for James, landing peacefully on his shoulder. Satisfied, Lily returned to her compartment, red hair and all. James scowled after her. "Rich snob," he said, under his breath.

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances, shrugged shoulders, and looked at James. "How d'you know _her?_" they asked, simultaneously.

"Long story," James answered. He sighed and picked up the now-dented owl cage. "Sorry, Helwig," he told the owl. "Looks like you have a deformed home." The owl hooted mournfully.

Remus and Sirius both grabbed an end of James's trunk, and heaved it into their compartment. "You can stay with us," Sirius told James as he followed them. "Plenty of room, Malfoy-free. We only charge twenty sickles an hour."

Laughing, James took a seat and shoved the owl cage onto the luggage rack. "Is that all? I'd have expected an exchange for my soul."

The smirk came back to Sirius's lips as he glanced at James. "That could be arranged."

Remus laughed to himself as he settled back onto his seat, James's trunk secured overhead. This was going to be an interesting school year…

A/N: Ah, and so the plot thickens – or not really. Same thing goes for this story, only _all_ characters belong to JK Rowling. Don't get mad, Lily and James hate each other for a reason ;) and you'll find out why soon. Also, James's owl is named Helwig _not_ because Harry's is Hedwig, or anything like that, but because it's my English teacher's name, and I find it funny to be so close to Hedwig. Inside joke – which the Puck/Sirius/Dimitri Freak should understand quite well ;)


	6. Protection

Moon Howling

Chapter 05 – Protection

Gaea Blackwell

****

"He'll be in Slytherin, won't he?"

"Of course. He's a werewolf. They never fit in anywhere else."

"What if he's not power-hungry?"

"They all turn out that way, in the end. It's their nature. They're rejected by the rest of humanity, and their only sanctuary is the feeling of power over their inferiors… He'll be in Slytherin."

"What if he isn't? What then? How will he come to our side?"

"You ask too many questions, and I have no time to waste answering them. Leave me now."

"What's that, James?" Remus asked, tapping James Potter lightly on the shoulder, his gaze fixed upon a battered old hat resting upon a stool. It sat before the Great Hall's front table.

James trailed Remus' gaze, and grinned to himself. "The Sorting Hat. Determines your destiny as a Hogwarts student. That's what my mum told me, at least."

A cold shiver echoed its way down Remus' back as he drew his hand away from James. "Oh…hehe…is that all?" He attempted to hide his quaking voice with nervous laughter.

"Oh, don't worry about it. The Hat picks what's best for you, even if you don't know it at the time. It's smarter than we are," James reassured the smaller boy.

Sirius leaned between the two of them, catching their last snippet of conversation. "Well, of course, James old boy," he said. Then, with a puzzled glance at James, "What are we talking about, again?"

Remus now pointed at the Hat. "That…thing. 'Determiner of Destiny' or whatever."

"Ah, the infamous Sorting Hat. Yes, I believe its intelligence ranks far above the average mind of an adolescent, single-minded boy. But, mind you, I am not average and shall therefore outwit the horrific beast."

To James' and Remus' astonishment (and amusement), Professor McGonagall had just begun to read off the names of the first-years, and Sirius was first. With a nonchalant toss of his hair and a striding bravado, Sirius approached the stool. The entire hall erupted into laughter as he nearly knocked the stool over, trying to snatch the Hat up, a bit too forcefully. James and Remus tried to stifle their own giggling, but they took one look at Sirius' rapidly reddening cheeks and let themselves loose.

Blushing, Sirius jammed the Hat onto his head, perching himself on the stool. Barely a second later, the Hat had called out "Gryffindor!" and Sirius had left it on the stool, making headway for the Gryffindor table, to a mass of applauding students.

Remus glanced ahead of him, watching student after student disappear from the line and be sorted into each of the four houses. He crossed his fingers behind his back as his name kept creeping closer. At one point, he tossed a precarious glance at the Slytherin table, noting the scowling countenance upon Lucius Malfoy's face. There were still a few bits of carrot clinging to his hair, but they had stopped sprouting from his face.

"Kilman, Greg!" was called forth, and then "Lewis, Amanda!" Both were sorted into Ravenclaw, and Remus cringed slightly as he noticed that he was chewing on his lip, too late to realize that he had finally drawn blood. With shaking hands, he listened for "Lupin, Remus!" and attempted to approach the stool with the same bravado as Sirius. Thankfully, though, he didn't end up with the stool sprawled on the floor. 

Jamming the Hat onto his own head, he gripped the side of the stool with his fingers, clenching his eyes shut.

"Hmm…scared, are we? Never fear, never fear. I see Hufflepuff in you, my yes. No…no, Ravenclaw. You have the brains, my boy. But wait…is that werewolf I detect? Slytherin can be a help to that, you know. You'll face hard times with that, goodness…Slytherin might be able to protect you. But no…I don't see the need for protection. How odd…how desperately odd…"

__

Great. My first day and I'm already odd. Figures.

The Hat tsk-ed in his ear, and Remus could have sworn that it would have been grinning, given the capability. "Not Slytherin, then, no. Hufflepuff would certainly not challenge you enough. I see Ravenclaw. But there's always Gryffindor. Hmm…one of my toughest decisions, I must say…"

__

Please put me with Sirius, please…

"Sirius, you say? A friend? Yes, I sensed a need in him to protect loved ones…he'd be good for you. You should trust him more, really. He's just what you need, Remus Lupin. Better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Nearly panting from anxiety, Remus yanked the hat off his head, and jogged across the hall to the Gryffindor table. Sirius stood up on his seat, whistling with his fingers in his mouth and catcalling. Grinning, Remus collapsed onto the bench beside him, and sagged slightly, in relief. _It's all over…_

Both of them erupted into cheers a few moments later, when James Potter was put with the other Gryffindor first-years.

The first full moon of September was perhaps the only full moon that Remus feared with all of his being. He had no idea what to tell James and Sirius. _Surely they won't believe that I'm sick every month…_

But he also had no idea of what to do with himself. 

His mother had locked him in the basement of their house every full moon, but there was no basement at Hogwarts, as far as he could see. He wasn't even sure that Headmaster Dumbledore knew about his "condition." He just might have to run out into the Forbidden Forest and find a tree to tie himself to, if worst came to worst.

He was mulling over this in his mind, a mere two hours away from sundown on the first night of the full moon, when the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, approached him at the dinner table.

"Remus Lupin?" He nodded. "I'm to escort you to Professor Dumbledore's office. Please follow me."

He gave her a questioning look before grabbing one last bite of his dinner _– the last I'll eat for days_, he thought wryly – and shuffling after her. James and Sirius were still engrossed in their debate over the effective use of Dungbombs (Sirius maintained that they were life's answer to the simplest problems, while James trusted in their use to be purely for terrorizing Slytherins), and didn't notice that he had left.

Madam Pomfrey led him through twisting hallways and winding staircases until they came to the statue of a gargoyle. "Lima Beans!" she whispered, and the gargoyle swung open. Behind it was revealed a staircase, which she nodded towards. "Go on," she told Remus, nudging him forward a bit.

Remus glanced back at her as though she were crackers. "You're kidding, right? What does Dumbledore want with _me?_" he asked her.

"Well, you'll see, won't you? Go on, I have to get back to the hospital wing."

He bit his lip, and looked up at the stairs, but just as he had set foot on the first step, the gargoyle swung closed behind him, leaving him with nowhere to go but up.

He climbed the stairs, coming at last to a large wooden door. Checking his watch precariously, he noticed that he now only had an hour and a half before the moon rose. Sighing deeply, trying to gather his wits about him, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," he heard a man say.

He turned the knob, and poked his head inside the office. A man with a long, gray beard sat behind the desk, his half-moon spectacles slipping dangerously down the crook of his nose. His blue eyes danced upward as Remus peered out from behind the door, and beckoned the boy inside.

Chewing his lip, Remus stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Um…Professor Dumbledore…there's something I need to tell you…"

"Oh, I know, Mr. Lupin. Please, sit down."

Puzzled, Remus sat down upon one of the chairs placed in front of Dumbledore's desk, resting his hands on his knees. "I guess you're wondering about how to handle me…"

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Lupin. I'm wondering how you'll like the plan I've devised to do just that."

The boy rose an eyebrow. "You mean you know everything?"

"I've been in contact with your mother. She agrees with everything, if that's of any help. But Madam Pomfrey, the teachers, and I have been working on this little project for two weeks now. It's moving along rather nicely, I should say. All we need is you."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

Dumbledore folded his hands together in his lap. "Well, it's like this, Mr. Lupin. There is an abandoned house in Hogsmeade village – the wizarding village near here," he stated quickly, at the confused look on Remus' face, " – an abandoned house that is of much use to you. We've taken special care to board it up, make sure no one could get inside. _Or outside_, as the case may be. A tunnel has been dug from this house to the Hogwarts grounds. We took special measures to guard this tunnel entrance, as well, and only you will know the secret entrance and how to get past the barrier we have placed. Madam Pomfrey will escort you the first night before you transform, and you will remain in this house until the full moon has passed. What you reveal to your friends is to your discretion, but I must advise you, Mr. Lupin, to know _who you trust._"

"I don't plan on telling anyone, Professor Dumbledore," Remus said quickly.

"Very well. But the day may come when you grow tired of making excuses. I will not be making excuses for you, Remus. Neither will Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey. As I understand it, your mother has sheltered you from the effects of werewolves as much as possible, has she not?"

He nodded.

"Well, I see that you a growing man, Mr. Lupin. It's time you learned to handle this situation for yourself. You're fully capable of it. However…" He paused, as though lost in thought. "Well, perhaps not. But I believe I am correct in stating that you are aware of what others tend to think of werewolves?"

"Well, no…not really…"

Dumbledore drummed his fingers together, leaning back in his chair. "Hmm…your mother didn't talk to you about it?"

"She avoids the situation as much as possible."

A slight smirk came across the professor's face, but it was gone in a blink. "Very well…Perhaps I should explain?"

"What's there to explain?"

Leaning forward once more, Dumbledore lowered his voice a bit, as though sharing a secret. "You know Muggles, I presume?" The boy nodded. "You know how they have animosities towards one another, concerning the tone of their skin?" He nodded again. "Well, wizards and werewolves are much like that. Most wizards tend to be frightened of werewolves. Only, they don't show it by fear. They show it by hatred. There are some people in this school who might wish to see you expelled, just for that reason. I, however, am not one of them. That is why, Mr. Lupin, I wish to reiterate the statement for you to _know whom you trust._"

Remus blinked. "I know, Professor. I'm not about to tell anyone."

Dumbledore nodded then, and stood from his desk. "Well then, I suggest we move out to the grounds before everyone is dismissed from dinner. I will tell James Potter and Sirius Black that you have gone home, you can fill in whatever tidbits you wish to tell them, later. Madam Pomfrey should have your supplies; she'll take you down to the Whomping Willow."

"The-the Whomping Willow, Professor?"

But Dumbledore did not answer, merely holding the door open for Remus. "See you on…Saturday, is it? Yes, Saturday. I'll see that your friends collect whatever assignments you might miss."

Remus finally nodded, and walked out the door, glancing back once more at Dumbledore's twinkling, blue eyes. The door swung shut behind him, and he sighed, venturing back down the stairs. Madam Pomfrey stood in the hallway, waiting for him with a bundle in her arms.

"Coming, Mr. Lupin?" she asked, handing the bundle to him.

He held the bundle at arm's length, discerning its contents, and nodded. The nurse took off down the hallway, and he lumbered after her, gazing out the window as they passed it. A lump rose in his throat as he saw the sun drifting dangerously close to the horizon.

A/N: Ah…and so the legacy of the Whomping Willow begins…

As for you Wormtail-freaks out there, sorry, he's not here yet. I have a different idea about Wormtail, and he makes his first entrance much later. Just lemme put it this way: Nowhere does JK Rowling say that they're all the same age. That's why I haven't included Snape yet, either. They haven't met him yet. And the whole thing with Lily will be touched on again, but I won't go into it very much until James' series. As I have been…ahem…_warning_…my dear friends, I was mulling over this story this weekend, and came up with the perfect ending, so now I have no excuse to forget about it ;) Must finish it one day.

Remus, James, Dumbledore, Sirius, McGonagall, Malfoy, the Sorting Hat, and Pomfrey belong to JKR. Basically…I own nothing but a car, and a junker at that, so please don't sue J .


	7. The Light and Dark of It

Moon Howling

Chapter 06 – The Light and Dark of It

Gaea Blackwell

****

"What do you mean, he's not in Slytherin? Of course he is!"

"I was there, Master. He's a Gryffindor."

"Werewolves do not become Gryffindors."

"I beg your pardon, Master, but the Sorting Hat has never been incorrect."

"And neither have I. Nor shall I ever be."

The pup whined childishly, scratching at the locked and bolted door, batting at it with his paw. Hanging his head in defeat, a convulsive shudder rippled its way down the pup's back, and he settled back onto his haunches, tilting his head to the side. Looking around in the dark, he began whining again, finally crooning his head towards the faint stream of moonlight, letting out a weak howl.

He leaped up, and bounded over to the window, boarded and nailed tightly. The moon streamed in through a miniscule crack, providing the only means of light in the entire house. Letting his gaze fall upon the bright lunar planet, Remus Lupin finally emitted a low growl, his lips curling back to reveal his fangs. With a newfound furor, he lunged himself at the door, ramming head and shoulders against it.

No use.

Panting, the wolf turned back to the room, a faint scent tickling his nostrils. Hungrily, he loped down the dusty hallway, turned onto the staircase, and tripped up the stairs, his paws unaccustomed to climbing so steeply. He landed in another hallway, the scent growing stronger with every step. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, he broke out into a run, charging towards the room at the end of the hallway, nudging the doorway open with his muzzle.

A slab of beef sat on a plate in the middle of the floor. It was raw, but this mattered little to the blood-thirsty werewolf. Forgetting for a fleeting moment that this meat was to last him two or three days, he began gnawing at it, devouring it in under ten minutes. Satisfied with the meal, he sprawled out on the floor, legs curled beneath him. He licked his lips with a flourish, eager to grasp any final taste of meat.

Remus took in his surroundings, noting the lack of furniture. The tiny part of his mind that remained, as a werewolf, told him that any furniture had been removed on purpose – or was that the animal instinct, wanting to rip the upholstery from a plush couch? 

This room was much darker than the downstairs. There were no cracks between the boards covering the window, but a faint light still trickled down from the crippled roof. A chunk of wood lay near the window, and looking up, Remus could see through the ceiling to what looked like the attic – beams stretched out across the roof, supporting the shingles that sheltered him. There were obviously holes for light to peek through up there, it appeared so much lighter. A small amount of this light found its way to his room, illuminating him just enough to keep his form.

The wolf shuddered slightly, as a frigid breeze swept down from the rafters. _Winter air, this early?_ The Remus-mind thought, while the wolf-mind was beginning to be consumed, once again, by the thought of fresh meat.

Standing again, he trotted out of the room, poking his nose behind all of the other doors, hoping to find a dinner waiting in each one. No such luck. Sighing a dog-sigh, he lumbered his way back down the stairs, padding into the comforting light of the front room.

__

Great. I just ate all that I'll have for three days. Remus, you half-wit…

This thought barely surfaced to his mind before it was wrought away by maddeningly-increasing pangs of hunger. His wolf-self had never been as satisfied on a full moon as it had been that night. His mother had always thought it best to starve the wolf ("Perhaps it'll go away, Remus!").

__

Always the hopeless Romantic, Mother. Walt Whitman would be proud.

The wolf suddenly let out a howl, refusing the human thoughts that were surfacing to usurp its animal instinct. _Hungry. Food. Meat. Blood._

__

Hungry…Food…Meat…

The howl was answered by a pack of far-off wolves, hidden deep within the confines of the forest. They were nowhere near Hogsmeade, yet the wolf-Remus lunged himself at the door once again, instinct propelling him with an undeniable desire to join them.

Resigning himself as he cowered away from the bolted door, head now aching from the dull thuds, he began whimpering quietly. Tiny thoughts burst like soap bubbles across his mind, begging to be answered but without the possibility of answering them, and the confusion they caused distressing his animal mind.

__

Food…Meat…Blood…

Finally, without much effort to resist, he began chewing on his tail. He considered it a nervous habit, but soon found himself drawing blood and tasting it with an irrefutable fervor.

__

Blood…

That was the first night that the Shrieking Shack came to life.

"Aren't you worried in the slightest, Sirius? What if his Mum died, or something?"

"Would you relax? He probably got homesick, the ol' prick." Sirius shuffled his cards in his lap, slipping a few of them around as his inexperienced hands attempted to look experienced.

James rolled his eyes, and peered out the window again. "I could have sworn I saw Madam Pomfrey with him the other night. He can't be _that_ sick, though. No one's ever sick enough to go home."

"Well, unless they're deathly ill, that is. In that case, I believe our trio has been reduced to a duet. I claim the tenor part." Sirius grinned mischievously, just as his hand slipped, and his cards went splattering all over the floor. James noted, wryly, that there were many more Aces and Kings than there should have been, but Sirius paid no heed to this as he drew his hand upward, summoning the cards back into a neat pile in the palm of his hand. "How's about a game of cards, James, old boy?"

James looked away, shaking his head. "You're a dirty, rotten cheater, and I hope you know that."

"I may know it, but that doesn't necessarily make much difference, now does it?"

"Evidently not."

A quiet moment passed between the two of them, as Sirius gave up on his cards and began flicking marbles across the wooden table, his tongue edged out of the corner of his lips in thought. A fourth-year came into the common room then, a Divination book clamped against her chest. Her best friend, a flirtatious fifth-year, followed after her, giggling like crazy. 

"I just can't believe your star chart matches up with his, Evangeline!" the best friend exclaimed.

"Oh, I know. And to think – I discovered it on a full moon. That just makes all the difference, Professor Astral says."

The best friend erupted into another set of giggles, quickly droned out as they made their way to the girls' dormitory, a door separating them from the two boys.

As soon as they were gone, Sirius swept an arm across the table, sending marbles flying everywhere, as he plunged himself into a fit of high-pitched, squealing giggles, a look of utter disgust on his face. James snickered, glancing back at him with bemusement.

"Girls! Honestly! _Why_ must they giggle at _everything?!_" Sirius exclaimed, as his parody subsided.

"Oh? What makes you think that?" James asked him.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius thumbed over his shoulder to the girls' dorm. "_Oh, I can't believe your star chart matches his, Eva!_"

James offered him another snicker, crossing his arms over his chest, and tiptoed over to the table, careful to avoid the mess of marbles. "You might want to clean that little outburst up. Someone could break their neck."

"That's the point. I thought you knew me."

But James didn't have a chance to retaliate, as the portrait swung open once more, and Remus entered, his robes torn along the hem and heavy circles under his eyes. His hair was left uncombed and he appeared to have a bruise darkening along the side of his cheek. With a strangely deadened look, he entered the common room, and began to make his way towards the boys' dormitory.

Sirius' expression went completely straight, his dark eyes widening with empathy. "Remus?" he asked quietly.

James rose an eyebrow at the sudden change of character, but his curiosity subsided at he did a double-take on the smallest boy. He let out a low whistle. "All right, there, Remus?"

The light-haired boy nodded mechanically, and began climbing the stairs silently. The other two did not speak until he had gone. Once they heard the first-year door slam shut, Sirius leaned across the table to James, and hissed in his ear. "What the _dickens_ was that all about?"

James shook his head, shrugging. "I don't know. That's not the first time he looked like that, either. Remember a couple of weeks ago? Right after we met Snape in Potions?"

Sirius nodded. "But that was because Remus wouldn't let some annoying kid bother him. He vowed to do better in Potions than Snape, didn't he? I thought he was just damaging his appearance by studying too hard. I thought, anyway…"

James snorted quietly, glancing back towards the stairway. "You think studying damages everything."

"Well, it certainly damages the brain."

They both grinned at that, and James bent down to scoop up the marbles from the floor. Sirius finally gave in and helped him, gathering them in a pouch made by his shirt. The responsible action didn't last long, however, as they soon began pelting each other with the tiny balls.

A/N: Yes, yes, I realize that Snape is the same age as them now. Are you all happy? He was mentioned. And in case there was any confusion, the James/Sirius part took place a month later. Um…as always, any suggestions are quite appreciated, complaints will be ignored ;) (j/k). All characters/places belong to JKR, etc., etc., etc.

Gaea, signing off…(dancing to "Fame!" which has gotten stuck into her head because of Julie's choreography in Tech Theatre…darn her…*grumbles* "You'll remember my name – FAME!")


	8. A Night's Revelation

****

Moon Howling

Chapter 07 – A Night's Revelation

****

James Potter and Sirius Black were not to be lied to. They were the last people you would be able to keep a secret from, and they, wholeheartedly, understood this. 

Thus, when Remus Lupin continued to disappear from school every month, both of them were quite convinced that there was more to the matter than met the eye. However, also characteristic of the two of them, they refused to flat-out ask the increasingly depressive and weak boy. They opted for the more direct approach.

Spying.

For Remus, this meant a life of heightening fear. He couldn't bear to think what would happen if they did find out what he was. Sirius was the first person that had ever spoken to him, as a complete stranger, and James – Remus couldn't help admitting his pride at this slight fact – was one of the most popular boys in their year._ And they were his _friends. Not only was this an alien concept to the smaller boy, but also rather unnerving. The more questions they asked, the fewer excuses he could devise, and the closer they became, the harder he found it was to keep his secret to himself.

__

Shut up, Remus. You can't tell them. Not yet. Not ever.

Every month became more painful – not only mentally, but also physically. Remus felt as though the very tides were pulling at his insides with every transformation, willing him to become a wolf permanently. But every morning after, he would wake up as a human being, head pounding and body aching. Madam Pomfrey would show up in the Shrieking Shack every morning. She seemed to know when his worst nights had been and was well-equipped to help him. He would stay in the Shrieking Shack for two days after his transformation to recover. Dumbledore thought it too precarious to have Remus lie in the hospital wing every month, where anyone could stumble in on him. So a room of the Shrieking Shack had been set up like a typical bedroom, with a smooth bedspread and fluffy pillows lying on the bed. Unfortunately, the pup hadn't wasted much time in shredding apart as much of these as it could. But the room still served as a good infirmary, and Madam Pomfrey found him there every morning, lying under the thin bedspread, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps as he attempted to retain what little sleep he could muster.

December had been an extremely rough month. Severus Snape had gotten the highest score on the Potions out of all the first years – even though Remus had devoted every night since November to studying just that subject. He had barely passed. It almost made him sick to see how carelessly and negligently Snape could brew any potion he desired. But his sickness went deeper than jealousy.

James and Sirius were becoming suspicious. They hadn't known that Remus had seen, but they had been poring over moon charts for a week, marking full moons with their quills dipped in red ink. They had suddenly taken up an avid interest in Astronomy and stayed by Remus' side as much as possible in the week nearing the full moon.

But the oddest behavior they had omitted, by far, was the spontaneous howling fits.

It would start with Sirius on one side of the room. He would suddenly throw his head back, shaking long, dark hair away from his face, and close his eyes as he let out a long, low howl – grotesquely close to the real thing. But then James would answer, a little less theatrically. He would merely tilt his head back and quietly growl out an answer; nothing like Sirius' eerie cry.

Whether they meant to force Remus into an involuntary response, he had no clue, but he did know that they were up to something.

So that December, Remus had shut himself into the Shrieking Shack with not only the dread of the coming hours, but with the heavy heart that had been forced upon him by the circumstances of the past four weeks. When he awoke the next morning, he was not surprised to find blood splattered on the walls and deep bites piercing his body. 

With a weak sigh, he hauled himself off of the floor, barely registering the bloodstain on the floor where he had lain, and climbed upon the rickety old bed, pulling the covers over him. His skin seared with pain as it came into contact with the cool sheets, but his bit his lip and tried to ignore it. He closed his eyes, turning away from the sunlight creeping through a crack in the boarding of the windows, and waited. Madam Pomfrey would be there soon…she would make it all right…

He had given in to shaking uncontrollably before the nurse arrived, a bottle of sleeping potion in one hand and a few bandages in the other. He was barely awake when she came into the room, drifting between the landings of slumber and reality. He heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of glass shattering, but he had faded out again before he heard her running back out and down into the tunnel.

He did not wake up again until many hours later, to find himself in a new room – one with new, non-shredded bedcovers and an open window. He saw the canvas spread around his bed, and let out a feeble groan. He was in the hospital wing. That couldn't be good.

"Remus? Oh, good! You're awake. Drink this."

A hand pushed its way in front of his face, brandishing a flask of a smoking potion, its pungent smell quickly tickling his nostrils. He choked, trying to shove it away, but the hand was persistent.

"It'll help, dear. Just drink it, ignore the smell – and the taste…"

Resignedly, he took the flask, and poured the contents down his throat, trying to force his tongue to avoid the liquid. It was to no avail. The bitter taste was registered in his mind, and it was all he could do to keep from gagging.

"Good. That's a dear. Now…what happened this month, Remus? What made it so bad?"

He lifted his gaze, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't as though _he_ had any control over the matter. It was all the pup's fault. He told the nurse so.

"Well, now, the pup is only a reflection of you, Remus. Something must have happened this time."

He firmly shook his head. He didn't want to have to discuss the matter, not even to Dumbledore, who chose that moment to walk in, stepping around the canvas with an air of authority.

"Mr. Lupin…quite disappointing, I must say. You seemed to be handling your transformations with great maturity until this point. Any particular reason you have, to put yourself through this torture?" the old man asked quietly, glasses slipping down his nose as he bent over the sickly boy.

Remus shook his head again. No one else at school was supposed to know what he was. And if Dumbledore found out that Sirius and James were already guessing on their own…

He would simply have to be more careful. That was all there was to it.

"Nothing going on with friends? School? Family, perhaps?"

__

Poor Dumbledore. Always so sympathetic and understanding. He wants to help. That may become his weakness one day…Remus couldn't help thinking.

"Remus? Are you all right?" The look in Dumbledore's eyes had gone from one of concern to one of extreme worry. He seemed to think Remus would curl up and die at that moment.

__

Now that's a comforting thought…

"Yes, I'm fine," he croaked, still choking back on the potion Madam Pomfrey had handed to him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, yet.

"I gave him a Mending Potion, Headmaster. It tends to make patients rather groggy and unaware. He had a few broken ribs and fingers that needed mending," Pomfrey put in, stepping forward.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding, and straightened himself. "Well, Remus, I hope you're in better condition to discuss this, tomorrow. We're here to help you, remember."

And then Dumbledore was gone, without so much as the sound of his robes shifting as he stepped around the canvas once more. Remus sighed quietly, leaning his head back on the pillow. The headmaster certainly had a way of making people feel guilty for not revealing their true feelings.

__

Then again, maybe his sympathy could become his greatest strength…

James and Sirius were in the common room, as usual, when Remus finally left the hospital wing, two days later. They were bent over a roll of parchment, whispering in hushed voices over a matter that did not include anyone else within the room.

Remus stood before the entrance to the common room as the painting swung shut behind him, gazing at them with a sudden sense of solitude. He could never enter their world. _Look at them, best friends, and they've only known each other for four months. Why would they need me?_ He averted his gaze from their picture-perfect moment. It was something he had envisioned himself doing with a best friend one day: plotting out mischievous adventures, keeping secrets, sharing them. But that was their world and his was one merely full of all those secrets. 

He let out a quiet sigh, and began making his way to the stairway, not daring to look in their direction. He was stopped, however, by James' voice calling to him.

"Remus! Remus, come here!"

Glancing back over his shoulder, Remus saw Sirius and James now looking in his direction, grins plastered on their faces. They seemed pleased with themselves.

__

Is it really worth it, Remus? Do you really want to put yourself through the false hopes of friendship, just for a few glorious moments? He hesitated.

But then Sirius leapt to his feet, crossing the room in a few quick strides, and slung his arm over Remus' shoulders. "C'mon. We got something to show you."

__

Yes, Remus. Yes, it is. Who cares about the future, this is now!

Complying, Remus went back to James, Sirius maintaining a steady hold on his shoulders, and was then shoved into a seat by him. The lanky boy sat back next to James, and held up the roll of parchment they had been perusing. James had a tiny grin on his face now, as though partially amused by the whole situation.

"Know what this is, Remus?" Sirius asked, moving the parchment so that Remus could see it plainly.

It was a moon chart.

"Yes," he answered truthfully, swallowing nervously. _They can't possibly know…can they?_

"Here. Take it. We think it might be of help to you." Sirius handed the parchment over, and Remus took it, biting his lip as he glimpsed the various dates scrawled all over it.

But then, a glimpse of red caught his eye. He scanned the rest of the parchment, seeing the dots of red in various places, spaced out evenly among the dates. He searched for that week's set of dates, and noticed, almost with amusement, that the full moon had been reddened.

They had marked every full moon from that month until their last year at Hogwarts.

__

So they know. They've known for ages. They've spent all this time figuring out all of the dates – for me.

He didn't know what to say. He merely looked up from the parchment, his mouth unhinged in astonishment. James and Sirius gazed back, quirky smiles tilting the corners of their mouths, and Sirius winked at him.

"Well, best be getting to bed. Got Defense Against the Dark Arts midterm tomorrow, haven't we?" Sirius said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence between the three of them, and James nodded, stretching his arms towards the ceiling.

"Yup," he answered, letting out a great yawn. "See you in the morning, Moon-Boy," he told Remus as he stood up, patting him on the shoulder and walking past him to the staircase.

Remus merely nodded.

Sirius did the same, omitting the nickname they had devised for Remus, and bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Remus remained where he was, his gaze flickering from the fire to the parchment, still disbelieving the event that had just occurred.

They knew, and they didn't care. They had tried to help him, without even being asked to. They had spent all that time, when they could have been wreaking havoc on Moaning Myrtle, on calculating a bunch of boring dates.

They had done it for him, and he couldn't find it believable.

__

Maybe it really is worth it.

A/N: Aw, wasn't that just angst in its purest form? g Hope ya liked, now to decide whether to work on this story, or continue Sirius'…Ah, decisions, decisions…Belong to JKR, yadda yadda.


	9. Unfogging the Future

Moon Howling

Chapter 08 – Unfogging the Future

"So, Remus. Tell us all about it."

Remus rose an eyebrow, almost smirking at the amused expression on Sirius Black's face. James simply rolled his eyes as he examined his latest bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, trying to discern whether the pea-green bean was dirty socks or lime. Sirius lay back on Remus' bed, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded behind his head. The curtains were drawn around the bed, offering them a makeshift island where no other Gryffindor first-years could venture. Remus knew, though, that Artie – a rather snobby yet unpredictable first-year – would be listening to their every word, however.

"I think we need a Silencing Spell for that one, Sirius," he said plainly, reaching into the bag of candy and pulling out a Chocolate Frog. "Where'd you get all this candy, anyway?"

Sirius muttered an incantation under his breath, waving his wand almost lazily, before lifting his gaze to meet Remus'. "Hm? Oh, I found a new secret passage into Hogsmeade, and snuck out to buy some. It's that witch statue, by the way. Just have to say '_Dissendium!'_ and she lets you right into this neat little corridor-"

"Did you do the Silencing Spell, you blabbering git?" James broke in. He was now gulping down pumpkin juice, trying to rid himself of the pea-green bean's flavor. It had been socks, after all.

"Yes, you foolish prat. Never eat the green ones. They're always mixed flavours. Bloody disgusting."

Remus laughed to himself. He was well-used to their constant bantering by now and understood that they never meant any harm by calling each other names. It still stung slightly, though, when Sirius or James would call him "Moon-boy."

"Well, now that we have privacy, what makes you think that I'd even want to tell you about the werewolf business, Sirius?" Remus asked, examining the card he'd found packaged with the Chocolate Frog.

Sirius shrugged, snatching the card from him. "Who'd you get?…Nicolas Flamel? Who's _that?_" With a disgusted look, he tossed the card away, letting it carelessly land on the bedcovers. Remus retrieved it, wiping a piece of lint off of the photograph. He scowled at Sirius.

"How'd you get bitten, Remus?" James asked quietly, forgetting the Silencing Spell for a moment. "Were you really little?" He ignored the glare that Sirius was tossing him. Obviously, the taller boy had wanted to lead the inquisition.

Remus shook his head at Sirius' expression, a grin hinting at his lips. "I honestly don't remember, James. Sometimes, I wish I did, and others I'm glad that I don't."

"Why not?" Sirius asked suddenly, reaching for a Cauldron Cake. He already had it shoved into his mouth before Remus spoke.

__

Typical Sirius, Remus thought, with a wry grin.

"Because it's better that way. If I remembered, I'd probably have nightmares about it all the time. Not that I don't…" He paused. This was too far. He'd never talked about his secret to anyone, not even his mother. It was just something else that she tried to sweep under the carpet, along with the dust and crumbs on their kitchen floor. Sometimes she was even brazen enough to ask whether or not he could control the transformations. _But they seem genuinely interested,_ he told himself. That was just it. _Seemed_. What if they wanted to use all this information against him, somehow?

He stole a quick glance at the moon chart they had made, which now lay precariously on the edge of the bed, tossed carelessly to the side and forgotten. Would they have spent all of the last term drawing that thing up, if they were only going to use him? He sighed to himself, caught in a distressful limbo.

"Remus?" James prodded, reaching across the bag of candy, and laying a hand on Remus' shoulders. Remus flinched, pulling away. He wasn't yet used to the casual touch.

Now Sirius' eyes were wide with empathy, and he sat up on the bed, inching towards the other two boys. "All right there, Remus?" he asked, quietly.

Remus sighed, glancing at the two of them separately, not daring to look into their eyes. He knew that if he did, he would break down into tears – and that was not something that he was too anxious to do, at the moment. "I'm fine," he finally answered, exhaling with his words, as though to cover them up.

"No, you're not," Sirius retorted, sharply. The expression on his face was still concerned, still caring, but the tone in his voice had taken on a more firm, self-assured edge. "You're not fine and you won't tell us why."

Remus' eyes narrowed. How dare Sirius call him a liar? Sirius, the boy that never told the truth and prided himself on it! _The hypocrite!_ His mind screamed.

James noticed the look of pure venom on Remus' face, and turned to Sirius. "Sirius, man, back off. He'll tell us when he wants to."

Remus was almost grateful for James' pacifist words, but Sirius, on the other side, turned to James with a fire burning deep beneath the brown depths of his eyes.

"And you! You're encouraging him! Letting him carry on with all this baggage, letting him keep it to himself! _Forcing_ him to be withdrawn and introverted!" Sirius exploded, causing James to cringe.

__

Lucky we have the Silencing Spell, Remus thought. _We'd have all of Gryffindor running up here, if not._

James backed off slightly, but he placed his hand back on Remus' shoulder. "Don't say anything you don't want to, Remus. We– I, I understand. It can't be a Sunday picnic for you, I know that much. That's all I need to know."

Sirius rolled his eyes, packing the candy wrappers into the bag and tossing it to the side of the bed. "Remus. Let it out. You won't get another chance like this one."

Remus took a deep breath, gazing down at the bedcovers, becoming quite immersed in the intricate pattern of the threads. He traced his finger lightly over the cloth, following the weaving of the fabric, licking his lips in silent thought. Sirius watched him anxiously, and James was cracking his knuckles in a nervous gesture, trying to think of a way to change the subject discreetly. He wasn't having much luck.

"Mom said I was just a toddler."

The tiny island went deathly still, and they were afraid, for a moment, that Sirius' Silencing Spell had backfired. Neither Sirius nor James moved. The only movement inside the curtained bed was the slow motion of Remus' finger, tracing the fabric of the bedspread.

"My father died trying to save me. She held that against me for a little while, but got over it. But she never said who it was that bit me, or why, or even where. I could have been at a Sunday school picnic, for all I know." He almost laughed. "Though that's impossible, because I never went to church."

He went quiet again, and Sirius lowered his gaze for a moment, the information slowly sinking in. "What was that you said about nightmares?" he asked, quietly.

Remus shrugged, still looking down. The threat of tears was still emanating from the thought of meeting his two friends' gazes, and he did not dare to gaze upward.

"I've always been scared of biting someone. I…I think about what my biter did to me, how he or she disrupted my life. I never want to bring that kind of pain upon anyone else. Sometimes, I think I'm…I'm more scared of myself than anyone else is. I'm more scared of what I do when the moon is full, because I'm fully aware of my capabilities. I'm still just a pup, but I have the power to kill. It's a dreadful thought…not one that I appreciate. I don't even mind the transformation that much. It's almost fun. I just wish that I didn't have to go through it alone, to be responsible for all of my – my…animalistic actions."

Before Remus was finished with his last sentence, Sirius knew what he was going to say. He knew that he wanted to follow through with it, too.

"But you won't be alone, Remus. I'll come with you."

James immediately piped in, his eyes brightening slightly at the prospect of adventure. "Yeah! Count me in."

Terrified, Remus shook his head viciously. "You can't! You just can't. It's impossible. I can't let you do that."

Sirius rolled his eyes again, lay back on the bed, and pushed his lengthy hair out of his eyes as his did so. "Honestly, Remus. You _are_ a drama queen. We offer to help, but you blatantly refuse, so you can continue to live this life of misery." 

"It's not my fault!" the smaller boy screeched, finally letting his panic rise into his voice. "It's not my fault that you can't come, I'd love for you to!"

Bolting upwards, hair flying away from his face, Sirius met Remus' gaze with one full of fury, his chocolate-brown eyes almost churning with flame. "THEN WHY WON'T YOU LET US HELP YOU?!"

Trembling, Remus shrank back from him, almost falling off the bed and toppling through the curtains. James caught his arm just in time and yanked him back towards the middle of the bed, pushing Sirius away.

"Would you calm down, you bloody git?!" James yelled back, his expression full of anger, though nothing compared to the one Sirius wore.

Remus pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees, and muttered to himself under his breath. _This isn't happening. Just tell me this isn't happening. They don't know about me…it's all been a horrible, nasty dream…just another nightmare, like always…_

"No, James, I won't calm down, because it's been my personal mission since our ride on the Hogwarts Express to get to the bottom of Remus' depression and cure him of it! You know, James. You know how important that is to me!"

James rolled his eyes. "You _are_ selfish, you know that? Just because of your own problems, you have to drag everyone else's out into the open! That doesn't always work, Sirius. Sometimes it just makes things worse."

__

This isn't happening…

Sirius smirked to himself. He grabbed the bag of sweets again, and took out his own Chocolate Frog. "Just so you know, James, that's not my reasoning. I want him to tell us so that he doesn't have to live with it, like I did. That method didn't work for me, so why should it work for him? Getting everything out may be salt on the wound, but it cures infection." He popped the chocolate into his mouth, and ripped the card that had come with it in two. "Flamel, again," he spat.

"Shut up, Sirius," Remus said, quietly. Almost so quietly, in fact, that the other boys had not noticed that he had spoken for a second.

"What? Why should I? I'm right, aren't I?"

Shaking his head, Remus lifted it from the haven of his knees, and stared right at Sirius, no longer afraid to look him in the eye. The tears were already trickling down his cheeks, betraying his sense of bravado. "You're disgustingly right, and I hate it. So shut up."

Sirius stole a glance at James, trying to not smirk with satisfaction. His eyes spoke volumes, though. James rolled his eyes at the "I-told-you-so" expression on Sirius' face.

"Maybe we could just stay outside the Shrieking Shack, Remus. You'll know we're there, but you can't hurt us," James suggested, hoping to hinder the flow of tears coming from his smaller friend. Remus had explained the concept of the Shrieking Shack and the Whomping Willow to them, already. Sirius seemed to think of the Whomping Willow as nothing more than a pet, now.

But Remus shook his head violently, not caring how mussed his light-brown hair became. "You can't. It's still too dangerous. I would smell human blood and become obsessed with finding a way out. I've gotten close to that very goal a few times, too."

The trio fell silent again, Sirius and James both trying to plot out new plans – their minds were already becoming quite accomplished at the art of mischief and deceit – while Remus was left to brood, hoping that they would soon drop the matter.

"_Human_ blood, did you say?" Sirius asked, one eyebrow arched precariously.

Remus nodded, uncertainly.

A smirk graced the lips of Sirius Black, his eyes suddenly lit up with the idea of a new adventure. "Well, then that solves that!" he cried, grabbing the candy wrappers on the bedspread, and flinging them into the air like confetti.

Remus and James exchanged glances, clearly thinking the same thing: _He's finally gone crackers._ They looked back to Sirius at the same time, each plotting how to restrain him when the St. Mungo's people would be called in.

Sirius, oblivious to their looks of disbelief, was almost laughing. "Remus, you're going to have to be patient, though. I doubt we could pull it off anytime soon…"

James finally broke in, hoping to bring Sirius back to reality. "Sirius Black, what _are_ you on about?!"

Sirius gave him a blank stare, as though he were speaking to idiots. "What do you mean, 'what am I on about'? Only the most brilliant idea to ever grace the halls of this school! Or Filch's files, for that matter…"

James and Remus shook their heads simultaneously, both completely bewildered. 

"We're going to become Animagi, of course," Sirius finally said.

A/N: Okay…sorry this one took so long! Got tons of schoolwork to get in the way…narf. Um..same as always, everything belongs to JKR. I probably won't be including the process of how James and Sirius and Peter become Animagi. I just feel like that's been terribly overdone, and is nothing but cliché, now. Besides, I need to get Peter in here eventually! The next part will be skipping onto their next year, and then the pace is going to pick up quite a bit from there.

Also, jsyk, the deal with "Sirius' problems" is a reference to the parallel story, _Diamond in the Rough_. You probably already have a good idea about what his "problem" is, exactly, if you've read the prologue and Chapter 1, and if not, I would suggest going to read those, so you can get an idea. That story's been put on the backburner for now, though. I'm going to get this one done, first. But if you don't have the time or interest to read that story, don't worry, it doesn't play a major part in this one. And just so you know, _Diamond in the Rough_ is the same set of events, only told from Sirius' perspective. It starts at the same time and will end at the same time, but the two stories take very different routes. I'll be writing one in James' perspective once DitR is done, too, so be patient ;)


	10. The Fourth Marauder

Moon Howling 

Chapter 09 –The Fourth Marauder

The room was unbearably dark. He could have barely seen in front of his nose, if it weren't the blue tip that shone at the end of his wand, signaling his entrance as though it were a beacon.

"_Nox,_" he whispered, and the light extinguished, leaving him in a complete shroud of blackness. He could hear breathing all around him; some were ragged gasps and others were nervous, heavy panting. None were calm.

"So you've finally joined us," the cold voice hissed. Sixteen heads snapped upwards as a light came from ahead of them, shining divinely upon a dais situated between two towering pillars. The light was not from a wand, and there were no windows or fires in the entire chamber. It was simply another mystery of the dark lord sitting before them.

"Who might you mean, my Lord?" one brave soul questioned, his quaking voice betraying his calm stature.

"Silence, Malfoy!" the Lord answered, turning a fiery gaze upon the dark figure. Before any of the others knew what was happening, Malfoy lay twitching on the ground, his screams silenced by magic.

"Now, if I may continue."

There was silence, though Malfoy's expression still echoed throughout the chamber, screaming on its own.

"Vincent. You have joined us once again. You have information?"

The man that had been last to enter stepped forward, wand held low at his side. "I do. It may be of importance to you."

"It had better be. Don't waste my time, Mudblood… my snakes are getting hungry."

Vincent turned his gaze downwards from the dais, to rest upon the stone flooring between the Dark Lord and him. Several hissing snakes slithered over one another, twisting and snapping ferociously. He shuddered. "Yes, my Lord."

"Get on with it!" the figure upon the dais screeched, his high, cold voice reaching new octaves.

Another shudder escaped Vincent's body before he spoke again. "The werewolf has friends. Powerful friends."

"They are of no matter. Kill them."

"One is a Potter, sir."

There was silence. The fifteen figures behind Vincent had stopped breathing, including Malfoy, who was still lying on the ground. The others were not sure if he would ever breathe again.

"He's still only a boy. Perhaps nature will take care of our problem, on its own."

The figure on the dais stood, stretching its spider-like legs as it reached its full height of seven feet. "Foolishness. Potters do not die young. They have the so-called bravery to put them through torrents of death-defying tasks, yet they never die young. He will grow old before our hands can touch him. Gryffindor's curse is still upon their lineage." The figure began pacing, eyes gleaming red through the black expanse of the underground chamber.

The sixteen figures were still silent, though most had regained their tense breathing. Malfoy was not one of them.

"Gryffindor's curse, sir?" Vincent questioned.

The figure did not answer. It merely continued pacing, cracking knuckles in thought.

"Gryffindor's curse…" one of the sixteen figures piped up. "Gryffindor 'blessed' the Potter family back in 957. He…he said they would be of use in the future. It ensures that all male members live to the age of 25. In his lifetime, the age of 25 was considered to be prime-wizarding age. According to legend, the Potters will be the end of Slytherin. No Heir of Slytherin can kill a Potter until they are outside of the protected age."

"Thank you, Lestrange," the figure hissed, before firing a bolt of pure-red light at the hooded man that had spoken. He crumpled to the ground, twitching like Malfoy, but his screams were not blocked from their ears. Most twitched at the familiar sound, but the Dark Lord merely smirked in wry satisfaction. "Anyone else wish to speak?" he questioned.

The room was, once again, completely silent.

"The matter of a Potter befriending a werewolf _does_ concern me. Werewolves are typically skilled in the Dark Arts. If the Potter were to convince the werewolf to turn to the Light Arts…their Defense would be doubly strengthened. We cannot let that happen. You said he had made friend_s_. Who is the other?"

Vincent tore his gaze away from the suffering Lestrange, overlooking the pit of snakes as he tried to avoid staring directly into Voldemort's eyes. "Sirius Black. He does not yet know his own powers, of course, but he is destined for greatness."

Voldemort nodded. "I have heard of the Blacks. Their friendship with the Potters goes back for generations, though I was not aware that their lineage still existed. I ordered them to be extinguished a decade ago." A glare was fired from the Dark Lord to a particularly small hooded figure, whose head now hung in shame.

"There was a child, sir. They had a son. Authorities arrived before I could kill him."

A restrained sigh came from Voldemort as he clenched his hands into fists. "Very well. We will merely finish the job."

"Was that not the same time you apprehended the werewolf, my Lord?" Vincent asked.

"That is none of your concern, Mudblood," the Dark Lord spat, perching back upon his dais as he fished out his wand and twirled it in one hand. "Leave me now. I must devise my next move."

The fifteen figures behind Vincent Apparated with several tiny "pop's!" and a draught blasted through the chamber, leaving Vincent shivering in the darkness.

"Vincent. You know your task. Kill the Black."

Vincent nodded grimly, pulled his hood well over his face and Apparated away from the room.

"Don't forget, Remus! We promised!" Sirius chirped, clambering inside the last empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw only one figure inside. "James? Where's Remus?" he ducked his head under the seats, clucking his tongue. "Here Moon-Boy! Here wolfie-wolfie!"

James rolled his eyes, grabbed Sirius by the collar, and yanked him upright. "Don't you remember? It's a full moon. And keep your voice down. We're the only ones that know, remember?"

Sirius yanked himself free of James' grasp and straightened his collar. "Yeah, yeah. But he's not even coming today? I mean, he _could_ just go the Shrieking Shack once we get there…"

"It's already dark before we get there. Remember? I, for one, would not want a werewolf inside our compartment. No matter how much I love Remus, I _don't_ love the idea of being eaten alive."

"Good point," the taller boy answered, plopping down on the seat across from James. He propped his feet up on his trunk and James did the same. The arrangement quickly led into a foot-war. Sirius won out, smirking as he kept his feet on the trunk and James scowled at him, rubbing at a bruise on his shin.

"What did we promise?" James asked suddenly, wiping the grin off of Sirius' face.

"Huh?"

"You were saying, when you came in, for Remus to remember that we had promised. What did we promise, again?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, pulling his feet off the trunk and kicking it towards James. It didn't do much good, as the trunk was too full to be affected much. "You git. We promised to um…_endow ourselves with animalistic instinct,_ remember?"

James blinked, staring off into space as he struggled to remember their conversation last year. "Oh…er…yeah. So _that_ was what you meant by Animagi. I wasn't sure what they were, and I was afraid to ask Dad. I thought it might be something illegal that you had cooked up – as always."

"Oh, they are, don't worry."

The brief glimmer of hope that Sirius had been partially reasonable quickly vanished from James' mind. "Huh-uh. I'm willing to sneak out, yes. Use Dungbombs at will, yes. Transfigure Snape's nose into a beak, yes. Commit a crime? I hardly think so."

"Oh, come off it, James old boy. You've been around your father for too long. No one'll ever be able to tell, unless they walk in on us practicing. We're not stupid, either. We know all the good hiding places." Sirius remained adamant, while James was teetering towards trying to forget that the suggestion had ever been made. "We'll talk about it later, when we have some privacy. Peter might hear us, and heaven knows we don't want _that_ to happen."

James was caught off-guard once again. "Peter? Who's Peter?"

"I'm Peter!" a stout boy squeaked from the doorway, trunk wedged between the door. He had tried to shove it through and was rather unsuccessful.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's the nightmare, all right," he told James. Then, turned towards the new boy, "Peter, you stupid git. You don't push it through, you have to _pull._"

Peter's eyes lifted to meet Sirius', his lower lip quivering. "But the handle broke on the platform, and Daddy couldn't fix it!"

Sirius' expression quickly turned to one of venom. "Of all the incompetent excuses…" he muttered, as he grabbed hold of Peter's trunk, and hauled it up onto the luggage rack.

Peter brightened quickly, and bounded into the room, landing on the seat next to James with a thud. "Hi! I'm Peter Pettigrew. I've got a toad, want to see?"

James offered a watery smile. "Sur-" he was about to say, but glanced towards Sirius before he finished, who was mouthing to him. He paused, and was finally able to make out the words, "Vicious, man-eating breed from South Africa!" "I…might have to pass on that one," he said gently, frowning at the crestfallen look that fell upon Peter's face.

"Oh…that…that's all right. Sirius doesn't like him, either." Peter patted his pocket lightly, and winced slightly. "Bit me."

Sirius sighed, and gazed out the window as he collapsed back onto his seat. _Please don't let Peter be in Gryffindor,_ he thought to himself.

"I hope I'm in Gryffindor!" Peter exclaimed, jarring James out a pleasant daydream involving a broomstick and a Ravenclaw fourth-year.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Don't bother asking, James. Just smile, nod, and pretend you understood whatever blabber comes out of his mouth," Sirius answered right away.

Peter scowled at Sirius. He leaned over to James, and whispered in his ear, "Sometimes, I get the impression that he doesn't like me very much."

James nodded, deciding to follow Sirius' advice. One question, however, hovered in his mind. "Hey, Sirius? How do you know Peter, anyway?"

Sirius looked as though he were about to wretch. "Some twisted joke on fate's behalf," he snapped.

Peter giggled. "My Daddy adopted him."

"I wasn't adopted, you prick. If I had any choice in the matter, I'd be lying dead in a gutter right now."

Peter pouted, turning to James. "He doesn't mean that," he said quietly.

James had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he saw the look of utter repulsion on Sirius' face. "Why's it so bad, Sirius?" he asked.

"Don't ask. Just don't ask. Gives me nightmares just to think about it. Mind if I stay with you next summer, by the way?" Sirius batted his eyelashes, trying to formulate some sort of angelic look into his features. He wasn't very successful; it wound up looking more like someone with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"But, Sirius!" Peter whined. "You promised we'd go to the Muggle carnival next summer!"

The tallest boy winced. "I did not."

"Did too!"

"That was only to keep you from ratting on me!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"It was, you know," he told James doggedly.

James merely nodded, his insides contorting with laughter.


	11. Plotting

Moon Howling

Chapter 10 – Plotting

_____________________________________________________________

Remus sighed as he lugged his trunk up the stairs to the dorm – that was one problem with arriving late to school. They didn't take the luggage inside. Noting to himself that he only felt like biting anyone that crossed his path because the full moon had just passed, he calmed the animalistic urges to do so. _Man, even the slightest problems spark my temper after the full moon. Imagine if _Sirius_ were a werewolf…_ He almost laughed as he kicked open the door, and pushed the trunk into the room. He straightened himself up as he came inside the second-year's dorm, wiping his forehead off with his sleeve. He paused then, blinking as his gaze landed upon what used to be his bed.

"There's a toad on my bed," he said quietly.

Sirius looked up from his new Quidditch magazine, and shrugged. "Yeah. Don't touch it either. It's adapted a taste for human flesh."

"And so you gave it my bed!?"

James rose an eyebrow as he peered over the top of his Potions essay. "Of course not, Remus. Now be quiet, I didn't do my summer homework."  
  
"And whose fault is that, hm?" Remus snapped.

James winced, and went back to his essay. Sirius sighed, putting the magazine aside. "Look, if the bed's that big of a deal, you can talk to the kid that swiped it…"

"Swiped it! It's my bed! We're the only Gryffindor second-years! It's _my_ bed, and I want it back!"

Remus was fuming. He didn't understand it, himself. It _was_ just a bed, after all. He'd slept on worse. But maybe it was just the principle of the thing.

"Well, then, by all means, murder the bloody git that took it," Sirius replied cooly.

James' eyes widened. "Sirius Black! Don't you - !"

"Oh, shut up, James. He's allowed to be teased by it once in awhile," Sirius retorted, cutting the other boy off.

"I don't care what you say about me. What bloody git took my bed?" Remus yelled over their altercation.

"I did," Peter said quietly, now standing in the doorway. Silently, he shuffled over to the bed, scooping the toad into his arms and wincing as it bit his thumb. "I'll move, I'm sorry…"

Remus' glanced at the boy, giving him a once-over. He was short and fat, to say the least. Light brown hair clung to his head in clumps, falling down into his eyes and remaining forever untamed. His clothes were a smidgen too small but his robes were brand new. He stood in front of Remus, stroking the toad's back with one finger, making a pained face every time the toad retaliated by snapping at him.

"They had too many first-years in Gryffindor, and since Sirius is practically my cousin, they thought it'd be all right for me to stay with the second-years, but if it's a problem, I can sleep in the common room…" the younger boy went on.

Sirius rolled his eyes, clambering off of his bed. "Oh, shut up, Peter. You weren't that shy before. Keep the daft bed. Remus, there _is_ an extra one over there, by James, you know."

Remus glanced towards the corner of the room, and saw the fourth bed for the first time. He blushed, a sense of stupidity washing over him. He nodded and tugged his trunk towards the last remaining bed. Peter sat down on what was now his bed, pouting.

"And quit pouting, you git. Vince isn't here to protect you now, so get used to it," Sirius snarled.

Peter sighed, laying the toad back on the bed. "Sirius, why don't you ever leave me alone?" he asked quietly.

Sirius didn't answer, but merely went back to his bed, immersing himself in _Teen Quidditch_ once again.

Remus watched the exchange with mild interest as he unpacked his suitcase, laying his wand on the nightstand. "You never told me you had a cousin, Sirius," he said.

Sirius growled. "He's _not_ my cousin."

"Oh?"

"No. We're…foster-brothers, if that. I prefer to claim no relation whatsoever."

Peter frowned. "Daddy says we're cousins!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "He only says that because he knows you're too stupid to believe anything else."

Peter looked hurt. "But he says I'm smart…"

The eyes went heavenward this time. "Peter, would you just shut up and go talk to the rest of the first-years? We have stuff to do."

"No, I won't, because none of them like me. They don't know me, anyway."

Remus slammed his trunk closed, and crossed the room to Peter. "Well, then how do you know that they don't like you?" he asked the stout boy.

Peter glanced up at Remus with nothing less than contempt. "Because they didn't _talk_ to me," he said. He peered at Remus as though he were nothing more than a house-elf.

Remus stiffened, forcing back his rising temper, and held his chin high. "That doesn't mean anything, Peter. You have to introduce yourself."

Peter scuffled his toe along the floor, head now bowed in what appeared to be chagrin. "But…I don't know how."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Remus, just ignore him!" Sirius crowed, slapping the Quidditch magazine down again.

Remus glanced sideways at Sirius, but ignored him. "Well, then, I'll do it. C'mon, Peter." He didn't wait to hear Sirius' outburst or see James' look of disbelief, but headed straight for the door, turning back to the room only to check that Peter was following him.

He led Peter down the stairs to the common room, and scanned the room for any first-years.

"You know, Sirius only wants to get rid of me, that's the only reason he told me to talk to the stupid first-years. You don't have to do this," Peter said, wringing his hands together.

Remus sighed, glancing back at the boy. "Would you quit whining for a minute? Just a single minute?"

Peter quieted then, his gaze falling towards the floor. "You don't like me, either."

Remus paused, fighting his temper back for the umpteenth time that day. "That's not true. I never said I did or didn't, so don't assume. I've had a bad day, that's all. Besides, I have a reason to harbor animosities towards you. You took my bed, didn't you?" He smirked slightly.

Peter snapped his head up. "But I said you could have it back!"

Remus waved his hand in the air, and shrugged. "And I said it was no problem. So be quiet, I was only teasing - Hey! You're a first-year, aren't you?" He grabbed the attention of a small red-haired boy. The boy nodded curiously. "This is Peter….er…"

"Pettigrew," Peter supplied.

"Right. Peter Pettigrew. He's a first-year, but he hasn't had the chance to introduce himself."

"That's just….great," the boy said. He offered a watery smile and then continued on his way.

"See! I told you that they don't like me!" Peter wailed.

Remus was about to roll his eyes a la Sirius, but caught himself. "It's just one kid. Maybe he's a snob."

"Snobs are in Slytherin," Peter piped up, toying with a thread on his sweater.

"Not all of them."

"Yes, they are, Daddy said so."

Remus finally allowed himself to roll his eyes and headed back toward the stairs. "Look, Peter, if you're so determined that everyone hates you, just become a hermit and save us all the trouble, all right?"

Peter blinked.

__

'Oh, smooth, Remus. Destroy the poor kid's self-esteem, why don't you?' his mind chirped. The wolf shoved it aside. '_Kill the boy! Rip out his throat!_'

Remus shook his head wildly, ridding himself of the combatant forces. "Look, I'm sorry, Peter. But you needn't whine so much…or else people really _won't_ like you."

Peter held his chin up, lower lip quivering as it had on the train, just the day before. "I don't have to take this," he said haughtily, before marching off to a chair before the fireplace. He plopped into it, oblivious to the scowls from the fourth-years that were headed in that direction. They quickly changed bearing, opting for the corner of the room.

Remus sighed, gazing after the boy for a time. _He must not even know what friends are…he must be like me._

"Remus! Come on!" Sirius called down the stairs, head poking out of the second-years' doorway. "We have to talk!"

Remus turned silently, glancing up at Sirius. "I'm coming," he muttered.

"Vincent. The Black is not dead."

"I know, master. His time will come, never fear. I've already put my plan into action. He will be gone before the end of this school year."

"If he's not, _you_ will be."

Vincent swallowed back thickly, choking back the fear that Voldemort's calm, even voice always conjured. It was still a mystery to Vincent what really frightened him the most: Voldemort's threats, or the way he acted as though they were nothing more than weather predictions. "Yes, master," he finally said.

Voldemort almost smiled, and was then gone from the fireplace with a _pop!_ Vincent leaned back in his chair, sifting his hands through his dark hair absentmindedly.

"Great," he said to himself. "Now all I need is the _plan._"

He stood up, pacing back and forth in his small kitchen, glancing out the window as he passed it. It was dark out and the moon was beginning to wane – Lupin would have had to stay home for the first day of school. He sighed quietly, turning away as he lost himself in thought.

There was no way that he could get to Hogwarts, undetected. It was too risky. They knew his record. They _knew_.

He shook his head defiantly, relieving himself of the thought of cheeky old Dumbledore and the quirky faculty that he had detested ever since childhood.

__

Childhood…

He snapped his head up, grinning widely as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Of course! How could I be so _stupid?_" he cried out.

"Okay, so here's the plan. We need an empty classroom to practice in."

Remus raised an eyebrow as he watched Sirius pace back and forth across the room, waving a finger in the air as he thought out loud.

"We can't practice in here because we'd make too much noise, and because of that first-year."

James smirked. Sirius was beyond loathing Peter. He now refused to even call him by name.

"So if we could find one of those unused classrooms – they're everywhere! – we could just sneak off into there every night. We'd use your invisibility cloak, of course, James."

James' smirk vanished. "Who said I brought it with me, this year?"

Sirius' pacing halted. He turned to James slowly and deliberately, a calm yet apprehensive expression on his face. "James Howard Potter. If you didn't bring that cloak, I'm sorry, but I _will_ be taking action against you. Most likely in the form of tar-and-feather, but my preferred method would be, of course, _burning you at the stake!_"

James kept a straight face. "Ah, but Sirius. You forget. I never said that I _didn't_ bring it, either."

Sirius' shoulders drooped. "Shut up," he retorted.

James shook with laughter and fell back on his bed. Sirius looked on with a mock-confused expression. "I don't know what you're laughing at. This is a serious matter. Here, we have poor Remus with this cursed infliction, and you're laughing about a cloak, for heaven's sake!" Remus snorted, as Sirius had somehow incorporated a high-pitched squeak into his voice. However, when Sirius' hands found his hips and he pursed his lips in a prissy fashion, all three of them completely lost it.

It wasn't less than ten minutes before they were able to regain their stature, collapsed on the floor in a dog-pile (a/n: no pun intended). Remus' face had reddened and Sirius still wore a sideways smirk on his face. James sat up, taking off his glasses to wipe off the lenses.

"Okay, so, empty classroom, right? That should be easy enough," James said.

Remus sat up as well, licking his lips in thought. "Well, there is that old History of Magic classroom. Hardly anyone goes in there, except for Filch…"

Sirius rose an eyebrow, still sprawled on the floor. "Earth to Moon-boy. That's the only person we're concerned about, so that doesn't do us much good. We need a place that _no one_ goes to anymore."

"Even Dumbledore?" James questioned.

"Even Dumbledore."

"Well, that'd be a bit harder, that is," Remus answered, clambering to his feet.

"My point exactly," Sirius voiced.

James climbed to his feet, and offered a hand down to pull Sirius up. Sirius took it, hauled himself upwards, and patted James on the shoulder. "Well, it's not like it's impossible, though," he continued.

Remus plopped down onto his new bed, yanking his wand off of the nightstand, and twirled it in one hand. "What about all those secret passages you found last year? Do they lead anywhere?"

Sirius shrugged, dusting himself off. "Just to Hogsmeade. We shouldn't use them too often, either, or someone else might catch on."

"Then I'm out of ideas. There isn't a classroom here that Filch doesn't know about!"

"Yes, there is," Peter said quietly.

All three of them whirled around. "T-there is, what?" Sirius stuttered.

"A classroom that Filch doesn't know about. It's on the third floor," he replied, matter-of-factly.

They gaped. "How do you know that?" Sirius questioned.

"Well, Daddy told me that he used to use it, with _his_ friends, but it was enchanted, so no one could see it unless they already knew where it was. And I know where it is!" he finished off with a sing-song voice, grinning from ear-to-ear.

James, Sirius, and Remus all exchanged glances. James and Remus shrugged, and Sirius threw his hands up into the air. "Oh, what the hell!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank the Lord for Peter Pettigrew!"

A/N: All belongs to JKR except for Vincent…yadda yadda. For those of you wondering what happened to Remus in the prologue, that _is_ coming up, promise. It'll probably start within the next….part or two. And pardon me for the "hell" – it just didn't seem too effective to have Sirius say "heck." Really. Um…don't expect any more parts really soon, 'cause my weekend's pretty backed up, but the week after that, maybe…*shrug*. Then again, just watch. I'll have another part up tomorrow, knowing me.

"Grandma got run over by a reindeer…"


	12. Unrecognizable Memory

Moon Howling

Chapter 11 – Unrecognizable Memory

However stupid Peter had seemed to be, he certainly managed to have brains in the matter of manipulating people. He had been lording the information over their heads, using it to his advantage by demanding candy or answers to his homework with the threat of never telling them if they didn't bow to his every demand.

"The bloody bugger's nearly a Squib, but even _I_ have to admit that he's got a dangerous mind. He's almost as bad as Snape," Sirius hissed one day, as he and James were filling in an Astronomy chart for Peter. 

James nodded in agreement, furiously smudging out an extra Venus. "If this weren't so important, I'd say to heck with it and move on. We're _older_ than he is, for heaven's sake! Why should we be _his _slaves? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

Sirius paused. "You're right, James." He threw his quill down, sending splatters of ink all over the parchment. "C'mon."

James kept a hold of his quill, raising a single eyebrow at Sirius. "I was only kidding."

"Yeah, well, I'm not. Remus!" Sirius yelled out. Remus looked up from his Arithmancy homework, dark circles still under his eyes from last week's full moon.

"What?" he asked. "If you want help with that blasted chart for Peter, you can forget it. He's been telling stretchers* all this time, I won't give in to the little rat -!"

Sirius rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Get up and forget your homework for once. We're gonna maim him."

"Or enslave him," James offered.

"Whichever comes in most handy at the time. I could use a good spit-shine," Sirius answered, lifting his boot to peer at the sticky remains of an Every Flavor Bean that he had stepped on two days ago.

Remus sighed, laying the Arithmancy book on the seat next to him. "We can't hurt him, you know. McGonagall would have our heads."

As if on cue, Professor McGonagall, square spectacles resting on her nose and deep black hair swept into a loose braid, brushed past the portrait and into the common room, a very whiny and persistent Pettigrew at her heels.

"But Professor McGonagall! If I could just get that matchstick's head to quite spitting flames, it'd _look_ like a needle!" Peter exclaimed from behind her.

"I don't care if your matchstick pours water on its own flames, Pettigrew. I've _had _it with tutoring you! On you go." She grasped his shoulders, and shoved him towards Sirius and James. Without a backwards glance, she hurried back out, making sure to slam the portrait shut behind herself.

Sirius and James stood on either side of Peter, arms crossed over their chests and eyebrows cocked precariously. 

"So, annoying the Transfiguration professor again, eh?" Sirius questioned.

James frowned. "Really, Peter. I thought our tutoring was helping. Don't you have the matchstick-to-a-needle down yet?"

Peter cowered between them, turning to Remus for a sympathetic ear. Remus sighed, and stood from his spot on the couch, crossing over to the three of them. 

"Look, Peter…if you show us this room, we'll help you with that transfiguration, okay? But everything else has got to stop. We're not going to do chores for you."

Peter's chin remained in the air, ever prideful. "I can do it on my own, thank you," he snapped.

Sirius snickered. "Yeah, it sure looked like McGonagall was congratulating you on your _fabulous_ transfiguration abilities."

"That was taken out of context! You only heard half the story!" Peter maintained.

But James sighed, shaking his head. "Peter, Peter, Peter. Don't you realize when you're beat? We've been lenient, so far. Playing along with your little game…but we've gotten impatient. And now comes the Day of Judgment."

Sirius grinned impishly. "Yes, Peter. We _need_ this secret room, you see. So…we might have to provide a bit of incentive for you."

"Like what?" Peter squeaked.

"Well, like the possibility of remaining alive long enough to go home this summer."

Peter squeaked again.

"I don't even know if the room's still here…Daddy just told me where it was, he never showed me or anything. But then again, maybe he was just lying to me the whole time, you know? Maybe it's all one big joke, and we can laugh about it later," Peter blubbered on, laughing nervously.

He was met with three pairs of scowls.

"Just find the freakin' door," Sirius growled, hand resting on his wand.

Peter bit his lip, and turned from the three older boys with a haughty sigh. "Fine. I'll do everything _for_ you. Mind you, if you do anything to me, I'll make you sorry!"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

James sighed, fingering the end of his wand. "Look, Peter, we're trying to be nice, honestly. But you can't just go around lying to people and expect them to be your best friends."

Remus nodded fervently.

Peter tossed his hair back furtively and turned back to the wall before them. His bit his lip in thought, running his hands over the old wallpaper. He fixed an expression of puzzlement onto his features, pouting slightly. "Hm…"

Sirius tapped his foot impatiently. "Get your wands out," he hissed to James and Remus.

But Peter surprised the whole lot of them, jumping back from the wall triumphantly, a grin plastered on his face. "I did it! I found it!" he exclaimed. 

James glanced up and down the fall nervously, reaching over to Peter and clapping a hand over his mouth. "Hush, you prat! We're allowed to be out, now, but if someone finds out what we're getting at…"

Sirius shoved the two of them out of the way, and laid his hands on the wall in the same fashion that Peter had just had his. "I don't get it," he said.

Remus crept up behind Sirius, and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Maybe there's another secret to it?"

Peter wrestled himself free from James grasp and broke away, still grinning. "Nope! But _you'll_ never find it!"

Sirius whirled around, eyes narrowed to mere slits. "Open the door, bloody git, before I disembowel you!"

Peter whimpered, the grin quickly fading, and shrunk back from his "cousin." James stood behind him, however, and nudged him forward.

"Go on, Peter."

The younger boy sighed, and went back to the wall, resting his hands on it once again. He closed his eyes, licking his lips in thought, and screwed his face up into a look of concentration.

"Must be hard work," Sirius muttered. Remus couldn't help but to barely stifle his laughter.

Then, much to the amazement of the three older boys, the wall suddenly vanished. Behind it was a dark room, window-less and covered in cobwebs. Standing where the wall had just been, Peter grinned proudly once again.

"Told you so!" he beamed.

The other three exchanged looks and shrugged simultaneously. Throwing caution to the wind, they stepped across the threshold, wands at the ready. As soon as the four of them were all inside the dark room, the wall returned, sealing them inside.

"_Lumos!_" whispered four voices in the darkness, and Sirius gawked at Peter. 

"You know that spell? That's just wrong!" he exclaimed.

Peter shrugged, glancing at the blue glow on the tip of his wand. "I learned it from you, you know."

Growling, Sirius started to approach Peter, but Remus held him back.

"If you kill him now, we won't know how to get out!" he reminded the darker-haired boy.

Sirius winced, pulling himself free. "Yeah, yeah. The _second_ we're out of here, though, the little one dies."

James remained quiet throughout this altercation, his gaze transfixed on the center of the room. Once the other three had finally calmed down, they followed his gaze, blinking in astonishment.

"What the-!" Sirius exclaimed.

Peter screamed.

"Oh. My. God," Remus breathed.

James offered them a watery smile. "Well. Looks like we've met our match, doesn't it?"

Standing in the center of the room was a tall, overcast figure, gleaming red eyes peering out from under its cloak. It smirked at James' remark, slowly lowering the hood. It was not a dementor.

Remus gasped, barely able to retain a hold on his wand as his senses weakened and he felt a chill in the room, despite the fact that the tall figure was far from a dementor.

"_Stupefy!_" the figure hissed, and James and Sirius fell to the floor, unconscious. Peter whimpered, backing up against the wall.

The simple sound of that high, cold voice brought visions crashing down upon Remus' memory, sending him through whirlwinds of memories, memories that he could not define, had forgotten long ago, along with the death of his father…

__

I know him.

*= "stretchers" are like little white lies. Fibs, stretching the truth, if you will. I put it in this story solely for the point of annoying Beth and Erin ;) Thanks for the suggestion, Erin!

A/N: everything belongs to JKR…etc, etc, etc. I told you it'd get better, didn't I? eg Sorry this part was so short, but I needed to get this little bit out before it killed me ;) And all shall be revealed very soon, never fear.


	13. Reliving the Past

Moon Howling

Chapter 12 – Reliving the Past

The two were left standing in the dark as Remus' wand flickered out, the only sound that of Peter's desperate crying coming from the corner of the room. But there was still an eerie red glow coming from the cloaked figure, the chill in the room intensifying as the darkness settled upon the contenders.

"Yes, Remus. You do know me."

His mind started screaming, blocking out any other thoughts. He wanted to shout, to run, to grab Peter and go. But he couldn't. Whether by magic or fear, or was petrified.

"You should know me rather well, in fact. Well enough to know that I don't wish to be too lenient."

Peter's sobbing grew louder. He was blabbering nonsense, the words coming out in a steady drivel.

Voldemort turned on the chubby boy, raising his wand above his head as sparks flew from it, the tip glowing red. "_Shut up!_" he screeched. "You've served your purpose!"

Peter's eyes flew wide open and he sank down to the floor, curling into a ball in the corner. His sobbing quieted, though it did not stop.

Remus' mind was reeling. _Peter? Served his purpose?_

"Peter would have nothing to do with something like you!" he heard himself shout.

Voldemort turned then to Remus, a bemused smirk on his face. "Oh? Do you even know who I am, boy?"

This was a good question. Remus paused, his mouth hanging half-open in stunned realization. It was obvious that this was a wizard of the Dark Arts…but Grindelwald was dead, wasn't he?

"Far from Grindelwald," Voldemort answered. "He could never be as skilled as I."

Remus slowly raised his eyes, taking in the full image of the dark wizard before him. He was unnaturally tall; a beanstalk wearing robes. But he couldn't help shivering when he laid eyes upon the hideous face hidden beneath the cloak.

Red eyes scrutinized the small boy, the nose made merely of slits. Remus drew in a sharp breath as he saw the small ring worn on the left hand.

"You're him…" he whispered, the words hidden beneath the breath he exhaled in fear. "You're the one that…"

Voldemort's laughter rang throughout the room as he lifted his wand again, the tip still glowing red, and slowly advanced on Remus. "Yes, wolf-boy. I'm the one that did it to you."

Mouth dry, Remus tried to exhort some sort of witty reply, a pit of fire burning within him to impose his unquenchable rage on the disgusting, laughing figure before him.

"You're speechless. Understandable. Never fear, I'll give you all the time you need to thank me."

He couldn't stop himself. Forgetting the mahogany wand in his fist, he lunged at the man, managing to knock him over only by the sheer advantage of surprise. Voldemort, completely taken off-guard, reeled backwards, slamming into the wall behind him as his wand flew out of his grasp.

"WEREWOLF SCUM!" the dark wizard screamed, red eyes flaring.

Remus trembled, but the fury within him only intensified, pushing him on._ Kill him, Kill him! _He was no longer sure who was in control: the wolf or the boy.__

Voldemort let loose a wild growl and shoved Remus away from him, striking him forcefully. Remus fell against the opposite wall, cracking his head on the wood. Head swimming, his knees buckled under his weight and he drooped carelessly to the floor, slumping between the still forms of James and Sirius.

Voldemort reached across the floor, his fingernails scratching the wooden slats and leaving deep grooves behind as though the wood was only sand. He grasped his wand and clutched it in a fist as he leapt to his feet, drawing his full seven feet back to a stand. Face flushed snow-white, he loomed over Remus as sparks fell from the tip of his wand.

"Yes. It was me. I made you a werewolf. But you, stupid boy, you failed me. You failed yourself. I have no choice but to kill you."

Remus tried to lift his gaze, to make his eyes level with the red ones of Voldemort, but he couldn't. He hadn't the strength. His mouth was dry, he couldn't speak. He licked his lips, but stopped. He tasted blood.

"Who _are_ you?" he croaked out.

Voldemort merely smirked once again, knuckles turning as white as his face as he gripped his wand all the more tightly. "I Am Lord Voldemort," he stated cooly.

__

Voldemort…

"You killed my father…" the boy whispered, his voice still only a tiny shadow of the outspoken tongue he had allowed himself in the past year.

Voldemort's red eyes went heavenward, almost laughing again. "Please. We've all seen the movies with that very plot. I didn't kill him. He killed himself."

"You killed my father," he said again, confidence growing slowly.

"Your mother was a liar, boy. She lied to you about everything."

Remus couldn't help it. He hauled himself back to his feet and launched himself at the tall figure, but weakness held him back this time. He merely crashed into the soft body, fists pummeling at the stomach and having no effect. "NO!" he screamed out.

Voldemort grasped the hood of the boy's robes, pulling him away and flinging him at the wall. There was the painful cracking sound of breaking bones. "Strong boy. Too bad you don't know when to give up."

"You're a liar!" Remus cried, now clutching at his stomach. His ribs were sending him sharp jolts of pain, leaving a dull ache all over his body.

The ghost of a man snickered, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "It was your

father, boy."

Remus' lips curled into a distinguishable snarl, his eyes quickly turning to flames behind their murky depths as he cringed in pain. "Liar," he growled.

It chuckled. "Ah, dear boy. How much you have left to learn."

"Liar!"

__

"I command you to take me to the Dark Lord," Edward Lupin stated firmly, his jaw set in a straight line.

The Death Eater could only laugh in his face. "No one sees the Dark Lord. Especially not the likes of…" He eyed Edward. "…You."

With a wolf-like growl, Edward surged past the cloaked figure, his attention drawn straight to the entrance of the lair. He stepped across the threshold, but was immediately thrown back.

"Foolish boy. You think you can get in that way?" 

"Obviously not, you paramecium scum. If you don't let me in, I'll kill you. Don't think I'm bluffing – I've done it before."

"Ah, but it disturbs you, does it not? Taking the life of a man – even a guilty man – has profound effects upon you. You're not willing to face those consequences again."

"Aren't I?" Edward snarled. "My son is in there. Pissing me off right now would do you naught but good. I'm ready to pounce on any moving thing, much more a low-life like you."

The Death Eater only laughed again. "Try me," he hissed.

Edward could only grin inwardly as he pointed his wand at the Dark wizard's heart. "I shall," he whispered back, just before sending a surge of light out of his wand, striking the wizard in the chest.

The anonymous Death Eater stumbled backwards, hand clutched to his heart. "Traitor! You've betrayed the Order of Darkness! You will pay!"

Edward was hardly bothered by the Dark wizard's last words as he made his way back to the entrance. He found it blocked off by magic once again. Cursing, he brushed aside the charm with a simple counter-spell, and stepped inside. He was swallowed by the darkness, barely able to see past his own nose. "Lumos," he growled, blood running fast through his veins. He would not calm down. He could not.

"STUPEFY!" someone screamed ahead, sending green light flashing by Edward's head. He ducked just in time, and flattened himself against the wall. More surges of light flashed by him, and he did not dare to step into their path. The likes of this chamber would not hesitate to use the Unforgivable Curses.

"Show yourself," another voice said, stepping down the inky-black hallway. Edward remained silent, his wand's light extinguished. "You heard me. Show yourself, Edward Lupin."

He had no choice. It did no good to hide if they already knew who he was and what he was there for. Stepping into the middle of the hall, he held his wand tightly to his side. "Give me my son."

The new Death Eater laughed again, even colder than the first. "You think your petty threats mean anything to us? I may die, but the Dark Lord shall persevere! My death is worth a thousand lives for the future of the Dark!"

Edward's eyes narrowed out of hatred. "Give me my son."

"Never," the Dark wizard spat. "You may find him alive, but he shall never again be your son."

Confusion shadowed across Edward's face as he lifted his wand slowly. "I don't have time for riddles. I'll kill all of you, if I have to."

"Then so be it. We are ready and willing to die."

"You're brainwashed, is what you are!"

__

"Malfoy. Return to the dungeons. He is mine," came a voice, drifting through the corridors on the whisper of a draft that blew between the two seething figures.. The Death Eater before Edward lowered his wand, turned abruptly, and left down the corridor, presumably towards the dungeons.

"Now. Lupin. Come to me," the voice called, and Edward had no choice but to answer. Keeping his wand held high, he started towards the sound of the voice, glancing about nervously at the flickers of shadows on the walls as the torches faltered and gathered strength time and time again.

At last, he came to a high-ceilinged, pillared room. A dais was resting on a platform at the opposite end of the room, torches blazing on either side of it. Letting his gaze fall to the floor, Edward stopped dead in his tracks.

Between the entrance and the platform, the floor was sunken in, a pit full of snakes resting in the center. He peered over the edge of the sunken floor, wincing as the snakes writhed and snapped at one another in masses of coiled bodies.

A loud crack sounded, and Edward lifted his head, backing away from the pit as he scowled at the wizard that now stood before the dais, wand clutched at his side. "Lupin, I presume?" the Dark Lord hissed.

Edward narrowed his eyes, glaring. "Give me my son."

The Dark Lord frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about. You don't have a son."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "I haven't the time for your petty games, Riddle. Give me my son."

Tom Marvolo Riddle only shook his head, smirking in wry satisfaction. "That honor is not bestowed upon me any longer, Edward Lupin. You no longer have a son. Remus Lupin – appropriate name, is it not? – has been declared a son of the Dark side."

The shade of Edward's face flushed quickly from a bright, furious red to a pale, weak green, and the wand at his side faltered ever-so-slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" he whispered.

Voldemort clapped his hands twice, mimicking ancient Asian rulers in their call for servitude. "Bring me the wolf," he called out to the two Death Eaters that appeared in the doorway. They nodded, and Disapparated.

Lupin breathed in steadily, trying to regain some semblance of his composure. "What good is a wolf to you, Riddle?"

"Nothing, 28 days out of the month," the Dark Lord answered.

It was then that Edward understood.

  
Remus clutched at his forehead, his skull feeling as though it was ready to burst. "STOP IT!" he exclaimed. Voldemort only sneered as he noticed the sweat trickling down the boy's face.

"I don't think we're done yet," he answered calmly.

"That didn't happen! It didn't!" Remus cried, furiously pushing his long bangs out of his eyes, grimacing as his salty sweat and tears mingled with the cut on his lip.

"How sure are you? You were hardly in your right mind at the time, _boy._"

"Father would have won! He could kill a werewolf!"

The Dark Lord threw its head back and laughed richly, sending echoes throughout the room as Peter's still form sniffled fervently.

"That was the beauty of it all, Remus Lupin. He couldn't kill his own son."

A/N: Ah, that was fun. I was going to wait until this weekend to write this part, so it's much shorter than I wanted it to be, but I couldn't hold it out any longer *sigh*.


	14. A Life for a Life

Moon Howling

Chapter 13 – A Life for a Life

_____________________________________________________________

Remus was stunned into silence. "Wh-what?" he breathed.

A smirk graced Voldemort's face, twisting the features of his face into a contorted snake. "Your father was what I like to call a 'goody.' Couldn't kill his own son to save his life. Wound up dying in the end."

For the umpteenth time that evening, Remus was overcome with rage. "You're a filthy liar," he spat, securing his grip on his dragon-heartstring wand.

Voldemort's red slits of eyes went heavenward and he heaved a sigh, lowering his wand. "You really have to make this difficult, don't you?" Waving his hand carelessly to the side - a gesture that Remus had only seen Sirius use – he conjured a chair into the center of the room and levitated Remus into it. Then, as an afterthought, he magicked shackles around Remus' ankles and wrists, bounding him to the chair.

Too weak to struggle, Remus merely glanced at the restraints resignedly. _Doesn't keep me from doing magic, at least,_ he thought.

"Now, Remus Lupin, you shall hear the truth."

"More lies, you mean," he retorted.

Voldemort almost laughed. "Lies? What could I possibly have to lie to you about?"

Undaunted, Remus shrugged his shoulders, glaring up at the beanstalk-in-robes. "I've been told that werewolves are typically Dark creatures. You could merely be trying to turn me against the Light Arts, because I pose a threat to you. But if I'm on your side, then I'm not a problem, am I?"

Something resembling astonishment reflected in the wizard's eyes for a split-second, but disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared. "You're smarter than you look, boy."

It was Remus' turn to smirk. "Not really. I've been expecting it ever since I heard about Grindelwald in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was said that he had a successor…someone more powerful than him. All sorts of prophecies, you know."

"Yes, I know. I have done my research. I don't need to be educated by a simpering little twit."

Remus sighed, looking away from the older wizard. "Just…tell me one thing," he said quietly.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Voldemort regarded him with suspicion. "Quite the eager learner now, are we? Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I'm indulging my curiosities. But just tell me…" he drew his chin up, looking the Dark wizard full in the eye, "Why me?"

There was silence, and then Voldemort began pacing the length of the room, pausing occasionally to glare at Peter, who had finally passed out on the floor. "It wasn't a question of whom to transform, _Lupin._ It was a question of why. There are things that no one else knows about your father but me. Not even your mother. The only reason I know these things is because of the prophecies you spoke of."

Wrinkling his brow together in confusion, Remus tilted his head to the side slightly. "What does my father have to do with _your_ prophecies?"

"I see I'll have to start from the beginning. Your muggle upbringings certainly made you an incompetent, miserable semblance of a wizard, didn't it?" He sighed. "The first prophecy begins with Grindelwald. It was written that he would be the greatest wizard to emerge in this century – and he was. But he sold some of his powers to the Dark Arts. He became weaker than he should have been, and Dumbledore was easily able to defeat him. I was there, when it happened. I had heard of the prophecy, and wondered how Grindelwald could have been defeated, if he were the greatest wizard. I soon discovered the answer – along with some interesting little tidbits.

"'The greatest follower of the Great Wizard will be young of age at the great wizard's fall. He will be of the phoenix, forever rising from the ashes and more powerful than any wizard, save the one that defeats the Great Wizard. He will be the greatest Dark wizard yet, despite his inferiority to the powers of his predecessor.'" Voldemort smiled viciously. "I memorized that from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. I knew it was I. I have a phoenix wand; I was young when Grindelwald died. But if the prophecy were to be true, then I was to be forever inferior to Dumbledore. This presented a problem."

"Not that the solution was too difficult to discover, of course. Kill Dumbledore. It was so intricately _simple_. Dumbledore was, and always will be, too trusting. But then I discovered something else.

"'The only wizard more powerful than the Great Wizard's successor will meet his end by the powers of the Natural Dark Arts. He will die at the hand of a friend.' Even more simple, no? The Natural Dark Arts are those creatures of the night that even muggles know of. Werewolves, vampires…you. You, Remus Lupin, are a member of the Natural Dark Arts. Why do you suppose that might be?" Voldemort was now grinning – but it was not genuine; it was twisted, maniacal.

Remus twisted around in his chair, avoiding the grin Voldemort was turning on him. He felt as though it were burning his eyes. "You want me to kill Dumbledore," he whispered.

The Dark wizard looked away then, and sighed. "Losing your touch, I see. No. Not you, originally. I had another plan in mind."

"My father, then."

Voldemort looked back at him. "Well, coming back, are you? Very well. Shall I continue?"

"Have I any way of _stopping_ you?"

The man chuckled. "Such wit. Good to know that we haven't lost our humor.

"But yes, I intended to use your father, Edward Lupin. Interesting name, isn't it? 'Lupin.' Suspiciously close to the Latin form of 'wolf,' isn't it?"

Remus shrugged.

"Ah, you see…that's where the answer lies, boy. Your father was a good friend of Albus Dumbledore's. He was also a werewolf."

"HE WAS NOT!" Remus shouted, surprising even himself at the volume of his voice. "Mother would have known that, and she would have known how to help me, rather than just ignore it for so long!"

Voldemort shook his wand, twirling his wand haphazardly. "How little you know, how _little_ you know…

"Edward Lupin was the only known _cured_ werewolf. Yes, cured. Your father was worldly renowned for his potion-brewing capabilities. He invented a sort of Wolfsbane potion that, at first, kept his transformations under control. He could think with his own mind. But then he stumbled across something else, just before he married your mother. He found the cure. He took it, and told no one, afraid of possible side effects it might have. Turns out there was one side-effect that he hadn't counted on."

Remus was now seething. _Why didn't he tell Mother, so she could cure _me?

"The side-effect was you."

The boy balked. "What! What on _earth_ is that supposed to mean?!"

Voldemort chuckled. "When you were born, you were a werewolf. Half-werewolf children are normally human. Secretly, your father forced you to drink the Wolfsbane cure as a mere infant. It cured you instantaneously, and he still never told your mother. But it caught up with him, didn't it?

"I had known your father. He attended private study sessions at Hogwarts during the summer, under Headmaster Dippet's control. He was not permitted to attend Hogwarts because of his…condition, but he still desired an education. And so we met at Hogwarts, as I lived there during the summers. I soon discovered what good friends he was with Dumbledore. It only took me a bit of research to discover that Edward Romulus Lupin was the only Natural Dark Arts threat to Dumbledore – that successfully fulfilled the prophecy, of course. But, blast him, he cured himself before I had the chance to kill Dumbledore. When I received word of your birth from the mouth of a Mrs. Elaine Rose, I was ecstatic. At last, I had a way of returning the werewolf lineage to the Lupin family.

"You were kidnapped, as I presume you already know. Edward fell right into my hands…it was all too easy…"

__

"You cannot kill this werewolf, Lupin."

Edward narrowed his eyes as he looked back at the Dark wizard. "And just why not? I have no qualms against killing my own kind."

"Because this particular wolf is your son's biter."

There was no response from the dark-haired man standing in front of the pit of snakes, the werewolf drawing near him.

"That's right. The tie has already been made between he and your son. You kill the werewolf, your son dies. You know the werewolf curse. If a werewolf's biter suffers, then so does the other werewolf. The curse of Dark magic, used to my advantage…"

Edward cursed. "I cured Remus! I can cure him again!"

Voldemort laughed, sitting himself down upon the dais. "Are you foolish enough to think that you will be in your right mind after tonight? Didn't you know that a werewolf, twice bitten, is poisoned by the Dark magic? You will completely under my control. And I have many plans for you, Lupin…"

Edward stared back at the werewolf, eyeing its gray mass as it slid its way around the room, teeth bared in a snarl. "I will never be your servant, Voldemort," he hissed.

"I'm afraid you have little choice – unless you want your son to die, of course."

Edward smiled then, a lopsided smile that bore the trace of sharp incisors his werewolf self once boasted. "Not if I can help it," he said.

Voldemort shook his head in mirth, waving the werewolf on. "Let's just get this masquerade over with."

The werewolf let out a great snarl, gathering its powerful muscles together as it sprung from the ground It leapt through the air, onto Edward's chest, knocking him to the ground. Just before contacting the ground, there was a brilliant flash of green light and Edward's wand clattered to the ground, rolling off into the pit of snakes, where it was quickly absorbed into the mass of coiled bodies. The werewolf growled for a moment, then backed off, stunned into silence.

Edward was dead.

Remus was clutching his head again, but not in pain this time. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, he felt as though he were about to wretch, but could not show this weakness to Voldemort…he could not show his guilt…

__

If only I had never been born…

Voldemort's grin had returned, malicious as ever. "Yes, Remus. Your father died because of you. He never got the chance to cure you, and there was no other wizard left on this earth that knew how. Isn't it touching, how generations can parallel so effectively? It's just a pity that you aren't a friend of Dumbledore's, per se, or a fan of the Dark Arts. That would all make my job so much easier."

"You said you didn't want me to kill Dumbledore!" Remus shouted back at him.

"Well, that wasn't my original plan. But without the option of your father, you're my next-best chance. And I will not lose this time, Remus Lupin. Your life will be miserable if I do. I will make sure of it."

Remus swallowed. He tried to twist enough in his chair to grasp his wand more effectively, but found himself quite stuck. Nevertheless, he defiantly jutted out his chin. "I will never join you, no matter how powerful you become. You will never amount to anything…no one even knows your name!"

"Yet," Voldemort corrected. "But they will. They will know it, and they will fear it. And they will join me, if they know what's good for them."

"Yeah, right," Sirius drawled. "When I wear smiley-face boxers."

James made a face. "What are you talking about? You already-" He quieted at the glare that Sirius threw him.

Voldemort whirled around to them, his expression twisted into one of fury, red eyes flaming. "_STUPEFY_!" he shouted, but both of the boys dodged it, rolling onto the ground. Sirius landed at Peter's feet and quickly bounced back up, sending every curse he knew – whether magic or vocabulary – in Voldemort's general direction as James dodged around, having rolled in the opposite direction. 

James crouched beside Remus, and yanked a hairpin from the cuff of his shirt. "If there's one thing I learned from knowing muggles, it's how to pick locks!" He beamed up at Remus as he unfastened the shackles. Remus kicked his feet out, trying to get out of the chair, but his wrists were still bound. "Would you calm down?!" James said.

Remus mumbled his apology and waited for the dark-haired boy to finish his work on the wrist locks. Once down, he threw the chair into the opposite corner of the room, splintering it.

Sirius was maintaining a hold on Voldemort, throwing himself at the ground and rolling like a dog going through tricks, with every curse that the Dark wizard could throw at him. Furious, Voldemort finally gave up on the magical aspect of his side of the duel, and charged at Sirius, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. Sirius kicked out wildly, managing to connect his foot with Voldemort's shin, and the latter howled in pain, tossing the boy to the floor. Sirius clambered to his feet, snatched his wand from the ground, and motioned wildly to James and Remus. 

"Get the wall open and go!" he shouted.

"We don't know how!" James shouted back. Voldemort was quickly recovering, more furious than ever.

Peter was sniffling beside the wall, his wand out. "It's okay, I can do it," he said quietly. Remus barely heard him.

"WELL, THEN DO IT!" Remus screamed. Peter obliged, magicking the wall away as quickly as he had done before. James and Remus flew through it, Peter following them, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"SIRIUS!" James yelled out.

Sirius looked up at James and waved as he ducked a firebolt from Voldemort's wand. "Coming!" he called back. Deftly, he dodged between Voldemort's stilt legs, kicking the wizard's ankles from behind as he did, and slid across the wooden floor through the wall passage. 

Before Voldemort had time to react, Peter had sealed the wall once again.

There was silence – minus Peter's consistent sniffling.

Remus finally breathed, realizing for the first time that night that he was shaking. Sirius was out of breath, his dark hair darkened and matted to his head with sweat. James' glasses were askew, hanging lopsided on his nose. All three were clinging to their wands for dear life.

Only Peter had his wand lowered, his gaze focused on the floor.

"Well…" Sirius began.

Remus, James, and Peter turned to look at him, imploringly.

"Mighty good show, there, Peter," Sirius said. "He woke James and I up, you know," he continued, looking at Remus. "Told us what to do. And I do say, it worked quite well."

Remus threw a surprised look at Peter. "You're kidding."

James shrugged. "I wish we were. Who'd of thought that Peter had it in him? Rather brilliant, that was."

Peter had turned a nice shade of Hogwarts Express-scarlet.

Remus nodded, still staring at Peter. "Yes, but there's still one question."

"And what might that be?" Sirius asked him.

"Well, how did he know we would be in that little room?"

Three of them were silent, but Peter's sniffling grew in intensity. The three that were quiet turned to look at him. 

"Er…Sirius?" Peter said quietly. Sirius rose an eyebrow. "I…er…have something to tell you…"

A/N: Hah! You didn't think I'd tell you everything yet, did you? Tsk-tsk…gotta save something for the ending ;)


	15. The End is the Beginning is the End

Moon Howling

Chapter 14 – The End is the Beginning is the End

"Well?" Sirius implored. Peter had quieted once again, letting a pause linger between the four boys.

No one answered.

"Peter," Sirius said quietly. He managed to keep his voice steady – something that none of them had experienced from him. "Peter, tell me."

The small boy bit his lip in thought, and then shook his head violently, hair flying back from his face. "I can't do it, Sirius, I just can't! He'll hurt me!"

"Who, Voldemort? That git was stupid enough to let himself be beat by four pre-teens! How much do you think he could _possibly_ hurt you?"

Peter simply kept shaking his head. Sirius threw his hands in the air in aggravation.

James sighed, and stared down at the floor as he readjusted his glasses. He didn't much like the prospect of becoming involved in the great family feud playing out before him. But Remus stepped forward, tucking his wand under his belt and extending a shaking hand to Peter.

"Peter?" he asked quietly.

Peter's head stopped shaking in denial and he slowly raised his eyes to meet Remus'.

"Peter, what can't you tell us? We'll protect you, if it comes to that."

There was a loud snort coming from Sirius' general direction, but he was quickly quieted by a sound kick from James. Peter glanced at them apprehensively, then started shaking his head again. "You'll hurt me, too!"

Sirius' lips curled into a sneer. "You better believe we will, if you don't tell us!"

Remus held up a hand, quieting Sirius. "Peter, that's ridiculous. We would have no reason to hurt you. You just saved all of our lives. We're in debt to you."

"Oh, no, you're not. Not anymore, you don't have to be in debt to me, no, you don't, not at all…"

James shrugged, and ran a hand through his mess of hair. "Hey, if he says we don't have to be in debt, then we don't."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I could do without the comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very little."

Peter's sniffling returned. James and Sirius quieted. They weren't ones to take orders from a peer, but they were just as determined to learn the truth as Remus was.

"Peter. Please. Tell us."

The sniffling grew louder, until Peter had to surrender his sleeve to the undignified position of wiping his nose once more. "Sirius'll hate me!" he exclaimed.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Peter, if you honestly believe that I could hate you any more than I already do, then by all means, just go jump off a cliff." He recoiled as he was put on the receiving end of Remus' death glare.

"You'll hate Daddy!" the boy added.

This was a point of interest to the other three.

"What does Vince have to do with it?" Sirius questioned. James' left eyebrow was raised in questioning, and Remus had crossed his arms over his chest.

"Daddy has everything to do with it, everything!"

"What the _heck_ is that supposed to mean?!" Sirius exclaimed.

Peter opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get very far, as a brilliant flash of light suddenly darted through the corridor, setting the four of them alight in the dark. A shrill alarm went off, causing all four of them to practically jump out of their skin in fright.

"And what the _heck_ is that?!" Sirius added to his tirade.

Heavy footsteps clambered down the hallway, stopping just behind them. Hairs raised on the back of Remus' neck, and he froze to his spot, terrified of what might be behind him. _Don't let it be Voldemort, please don't let it be Voldemort…_

"What are you boys doing up at this hour?" Professor Bane asked quietly.

They cringed. It was their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He was notorious for controlling students – more so than Argus Filch. Yet he never raised his voice. He was one of those people that could command an entire army without question – even if he had nothing but a jackknife in his pocket and they were armed with Uzi's. 

Sirius took his post as liar-extraordinaire, steeling himself for a liable reason to be wandering the far reaches of Hogwarts without permission. He was the first to turn, a sour expression on his face. "Well sir, it's like this…"

Bane rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Black. I've had enough of your mouth the past year. Lupin, speak."

Remus had to fight the urge to squeak, which Peter did. He clenched his hands into fists, letting his short nails dig into his flesh. He screwed his face up in thought before he spoke. "It…," he turned to face Bane, "it's like Sirius was saying, sir…"

Sirius took the cue. "Research! Just ask McGonagall!"

Remus nodded enthusiastically.

Bane's arms were crossed over his chest. He didn't look amused.

James looked from Bane to Sirius to Remus, and sighed, taking off his glasses and wiping off the lenses casually. "We were told to do Potions research, Professor Bane. We had to find a certain herb at a certain time of day, and then bring it to class the next day, in order to receive full points."

"Mm-hm. And just what was this particular herb?"

"Aconite!" Remus exclaimed. He recoiled at the looks he received from Sirius and James.

Bane's eyebrow disappeared under his hairline. "I see." The steely eyes traveled away from the three second-years standing before him until they landed on the simpering first-year. "So what's he doing here?"

Sirius jumped right in at the opportunity, fighting hard to keep back his cheeky grin. "We tried to stop him, sir, but he insisted on following us. We had no idea he was out of the Common Room until just moments ago. I'd be glad to dish out the punishment for you, sir."

Peter whined.

Bane sighed, uncrossing his arms as his gaze went heavenward. "Just forget I even asked. I think you all need to speak to Dumbledore."

Sirius looked appalled. He had never failed to evade the Headmaster before. "What? Why? What'd we do?!"

Bane looked back to the dark-haired boy, a look of disbelief on his face. "You don't think I'm _that_ stupid, do you?"

Sirius looked hurt, his pride quite wounded. "No, unfortunately not, sir."

"Honestly. This alarm only goes off when students have been tainted by Dark magic." He nodded at the light surrounding the four boys. "Either you've all been up to some rather," he eyed them with an odd glint in his eye, "suspicious behavior, or you've just had a run-in with someone that has. Dumbledore's the only one authorized to handle such situations. So I suggest you go pay him a visit before I get angry."

Sirius mumbled something under his breath, and Remus shuddered at the look that Bane threw him. "Don't think I'm deaf, either, Black. I heard that."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. James laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, quieting him. "Would you quit getting yourself in worse trouble?" he hissed.

Sirius did not look happy.

"I think you'd better tell them now, Peter," Dumbledore said quietly. Peter tossed him an alarmed look, as if disbelieving the Headmaster's words.

"I c-can't!" he exclaimed.

"Peter," Dumbledore warned. Remus winced. He never wanted to hear that tone of the Headmaster's voice directed on _him,_ he knew that for sure.

Peter shrank back against the armchair in the Common Room, as Dumbledore stood at the mantle of the fireplace. Bane stood by the portrait entrance, arms crossed over his chest like a bodyguard. McGonagall had been called up from her quarters and was now stationed beside the stairway to the boys' dormitories. The four boys were gathered in their own armchairs.

__

Well, if I didn't feel like a prisoner before, I certainly do now, Remus thought, wryly.

Peter sighed, glancing at Sirius once more. "It was Daddy," he said quietly.

"Yes, we've already established that, you half-wit!" Sirius exclaimed.

McGonagall looked appalled. "SIRIUS BLACK!" she bellowed. "If you _ever_ speak like that to another pupil, I'll - !"

Dumbledore cut her off, waving a hand into the air. "Let him finish," he said quietly.

Peter looked more frightened than ever. "It was Daddy, Sirius, he made me do it…"

"I'm sure he did. He promised you a Ding-Dong, didn't he?"

Remus couldn't help snorting with laughter, hiding his mouth behind his hand. James looked to be having as much trouble with his own laughter. McGonagall merely scowled at them.

Peter's voice reached a new octave, rising from mere whining to downright sniveling. "He showed me the Dark Room! He told me about the Dark Lord! And the Death Eaters, and the prophecies, and that I would die if the prophecies weren't fulfilled!"

"Vincent Pettigrew was a Death Eater," Dumbledore clarified.

Sirius switched his gaze to the Headmaster. "Was?" he questioned.

Dumbledore nodded. "We dispatched a group of Aurors to the Pettigrew residence once we had Peter's confession. It was burned to the ground. Vincent Pettigrew was found inside the house. He was killed before the fire. We suspect the fire was intended to cover up the murder, but it didn't do much good. Vincent had only been dead a few hours when the Aurors got there."

"And when did you have the time to do all this dispatching-of-Aurors?" Sirius snapped.

Dumbledore did not look offended by Sirius' brash tone. "Peter confessed everything once he was in my office, while the three of you were telling your versions of the event to McGonagall and Bane. We received word from the Aurors just before I called you all in here. I'm sorry, Sirius, I know it was your home, as well."

Sirius snorted defiantly and shrugged.

"Daddy was special to Voldemort, wasn't he?" Peter asked Dumbledore. The Headmaster nodded. "He said so. He said he'd be in trouble if Sirius didn't die and Remus didn't give…give in."

Sirius' eyes widened at this new bit of information. "What? I was supposed to die, too?!"

Peter nodded solemnly. Sirius ignored his confirmation, and looked to Dumbledore. His face fell as Dumbledore matched Peter's nod. "Yes, Sirius. There was a plot for your death, as well. I'm afraid that matter hasn't been taken care of yet, but I'm sure it will be."

"Oh, so in the meantime, I'm supposed to go about my merry little life, pretending I don't know that there's a horde of blood-thirsty Dark wizards with my name at the top of their hit-lists?!"

Dumbledore looked solemn then, and gazed at each of the boys in turn. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, boys, but you're going to have hard lives ahead of you. Unfortunately, the darkness had to settle in upon your lives much sooner than I had wished, but it's better that you learn now than later. You're all prime targets."

"Targets for what, sir?" James asked calmly. Remus glanced at the spectacled boy in amazement. _How can he be calm? Oh wait – he hasn't received a direct death threat yet, that's how._

Dumbledore almost smiled as he looked at James. "Oh, you needn't worry yet, James. The Potter family is protected by a special charm. Until you're 25, that is."

"That doesn't help my friends, much," he answered.

Dumbledore's almost-smile grew larger. "You are a Gryffindor, James. More so than I could have hoped."

Nobody pretended to understand this. But Dumbledore ignored their confusion, continuing to speak.

"I am not at the discretion, as of now, to fully indulge the four of you into the secrets of the world. But I want you to be on your guard and to keep your eyes open. Understood?" All four heads nodded. "Good. That's all for now. Remus, I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."

Remus nodded silently, his mind going numb as the other boys stood from their seats and moved towards their dormitory. McGonagall stepped aside, but did not look happy about it. Bane remained where he was.

Dumbledore turned to the fireplace, gazing in the dying embers of the fire there, before speaking. "Remus, you saw a lot of things tonight that most wizards never do. Things everyone prays to avoid, and things that most cannot conceive. You're very fortunate to have escaped with your life intact."

"Peter saved us, sir, he-"

"No, he didn't. You saved yourself, I want you to know that. You stood up to the Dark forces, even when it is within your nature to succumb to them. I could think of nothing for you to be more proud of. You will be approached again, you should know that. Voldemort will not abandon you that easily, just like he will not abandon the thought of eliminating James and Sirius. Or Peter, for that matter. Peter was not in the original plan, I'm sure, but vengeance does have a prominent place in Voldemort's mindset. Vincent Pettigrew will not be easily forgotten. His son will be a constant reminder of failure. You will be a constant reminder of what could have been."

Remus swallowed, gripping the arms of his chair with an unexplained fervor. "He wanted me to kill you. I couldn't let him make me do that, sir."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly, and finally turned away from the fireplace, his age quite evident on his face. "Tom Riddle. He was a pupil of mine. I knew he would turn out the way he did, but I couldn't prove it. No one could. He always hated me, always despised me. He wants to take that hatred out on me, at last."

"No, that's not it, sir, he – "

"Oh, I know all about the prophecy, Mr. Lupin. Mr. Riddle wasn't the only one that snuck into the Restricted Section while he attended school here. I knew that I was the "Defeator of the Great One," or what other nonsense they've taken to calling me, by now. I also knew that I would have to face his successor. It, honestly, appalls me to think that Mr. Riddle would have believed me to be foolish enough to remain unprepared for his future attacks. You're quite an asset to me, Mr. Lupin."

Remus paused, releasing his grip on the armchair. Dumbledore was right, of course. He wasn't stupid enough to be unprepared…but how could _he_ be a part of the Headmaster's plan? He asked him.

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes returned, and he placed a finger to his lips, humming in thought. "Well, I think you know the answer to that already, Mr. Lupin. If you were any other boy, you would have given in to Voldemort's demands tonight, wouldn't you? That's why I need to ask you to never give up. Learn all you can while you're here, and take it with you through life. Keep the fight going, Mr. Lupin, even when I'm not there to direct it."

Dumbledore was quiet then, and he gazed back at the flames of the fire. Remus had a thousand questions burning on his tongue, not the least of which concerned his father. But he understood Dumbledore's silence, and did not ask.

McGonagall stepped forward then, and took hold of Remus' hand. She did not make a face at its clammy texture. "Come on, Remus. You need to get some sleep."

Remus sighed, and nodded, unfolding himself from the chair with aching bones. He had visited Madam Pomfrey while Peter was speaking to Dumbledore, but the aching was not yet gone. He threw a glance back at the elderly Headmaster, at the worn face that stood there, illuminated by the back-glow of the embers.

It was far from over.

A/N: Ah. Fin. For Remus, anyway. Now…to concentrate on Sirius. Oo, this should be fun ** *eg***

Just a round of thank-you's: **To Moon (er, WolfieTwin1)** for reviewing nearly every _single_ part of this story and offering some very helpful advice – not to mention a bit of direction for me (hey, I'm prone to wander away from the plot. Your constant wondering keeps me on track, believe it or not!).

**To the Puck/Sirius/Dimiti Freak** for beating sense into me more than once – and making me write the next parts with numerous death threats looming over my head ;)

**To RavenNat** for reviewing nearly every single part of this story and seemingly worshipping this story (hey, it feels good to have the occasional worshippers ;) j/k. You're awesome.

**To casadea** for writing such a wonderful Lupin story. You quite kept me from the horrid world of Draco-fics, I must say. Not that those are a bad thing, of course….*rushes off to reread _Draco Dormiens_* 

**And finally…To anyone and everyone that read and/or *heaven forbid!* _reviewed_ this story** – I am forever in your debt.

Welp, that's it from the peanut gallery. Be on the lookout for more of DitR. Though I've changed it's setting a bit – it's practically going to be a sequel, but it's still in Sirius' perspective and all. Au revoir, mes amis =)

Gaea


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